


Stellar Entanglement

by Oparu



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-18
Updated: 2011-01-18
Packaged: 2017-10-14 21:04:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 29,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/153450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oparu/pseuds/Oparu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Admiral Kathryn Janeway and Captain Chakotay had one night together on Proxima station before he left on a ten month mission to the Yaris nebula. With a plan to meet in Venice when he returns, they both go about their lives, content to wait, without knowing that they're tied to each other forever by a child neither of them had planned. After spending so much time apart, both by choice and by circumstance, do they know how to be together?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> written for Frazzled who asked for Kathryn to have a baby and was rather disappointed in _Before Dishonour_.
> 
> Special thanks to the UK and Australian homebirth forums, who welcomed me with open arms and shared their stories.

_August 2379_

"You're pregnant, Kathryn."

Admiral Kathryn Janeway looked up over the edge of her coffee cup and blinked in confusion. Was this some new tactic to see if she was paying attention to the conversation? To be fair, she hadn't been listening. Trying to talk to her mother and catch up on her work at the same time never went well, but she was always one step behind her paperwork.

"Don't be ridiculous, mother."

Instead of chiding her for not listening or reminding her what she'd been saying, on the other side of the table, Gretchen Janeway was quiet.

Putting the PADD down, Kathryn waited for the end of the joke. When none was forthcoming, she set down her coffee too.

"What is it?"

"What's happening to your breasts?"

She couldn't help rolling her eyes a little then, even if it did get her in trouble. "Nothing."

Her mother left her chair and the set of calculus exams she was grading on the other side of the table and circled to peer over Kathryn's shoulder as if she were judging the space of her cleavage like one of the pumpkins in the garden.

"Your bra's too tight."

Covering the offending mammary glands with her arm, Kathryn sat back from her mother's gaze, now entirely self-conscious.

"It is not."

"It is. I could tell from the other side of the table and it's even more obvious from here. They're swollen."

"They are not." Kathryn moved her arm, releasing some of the pressure she had been putting on her breasts. They were sore, but she had absolutely no intention of letting her mother know that piece of knowledge now. "Maybe I've put on a little weight."

"Your face is thin." Gretchen pulled herself up on the heavy oak table and studied her daughter's cheekbones.

"I put on weight in-"

"Your breasts." Kathryn's mother sighed and looked down at her adult daughter as if she were thirteen again bemoaning the fact that she'd started to grow breasts in the first place.

"Stand up."

"Why?"

"Kathryn, stand up."

She stood. No amount of eye-rolling, staring, pouting or pretending she wasn't listening had ever protected Kathryn from that tone of her mother's. She had to keep her hands on the table when the room spun a little, but her office, her apartment and her mother's house had all been doing that if she stood up too fast.

"Did you see spots?"

"No-" she couldn't lie. Withholding the truth was one thing, lying was unacceptable. "A few."

"Sweetheart, that's a recent thing, isn't it? In the last few weeks." When her mother slid off the table, she patted her shoulder gently. "Let me get my tricorder from the kitchen."

Kathryn sat back down, picked up her PADD and tried not to see the word 'pregnant' instead of every other word that started with the letter 'p'. She couldn't be. It wasn't possible... Technically, she had to correct herself, it might be.

She dropped the PADD, which clattered against the table. Her hands were suddenly cold and she tucked them tightly into her arms.

Starfleet fertility inhibitor shots were effective for three hundred ninety-five days, give or take a few days based on metabolism. That gave each officer a year and a month's grace. Which was enough time for most. Kathryn chronically ran late on her annual physicals, but the extreme lack of intercourse she'd had for most of the last decade made that entirely a non-issue. Chakotay had been just about to leave, maybe he hadn't had his physical yet and his inhibitor shot because he was a captain. She knew how busy captains could be.

It _was_ possible.

Gretchen set the medkit on the table and opened it up. The click of the latch was ominous and Kathryn suddenly wanted to be anywhere but here.

"You are aware that your doctorate is in mathematics, not medicine?"

Her mother opened the tricorder and the steady hum of the little device turned Kathryn's stomach into the Badlands.

"I can't be-"

"Kathryn," her mother paused, keeping the tricorder away for the moment. "Did I ever tell you how I found out I was pregnant with you?"

She was obviously trying to distract from the tricorder, but Kathryn welcomed it.

"You were in Prague at a conference and my father was away." That was all she could remember.

Gretchen's smile softened even more and grew nostalgic. "Your father had just had a few weeks off, before he left to do another rotation with Starfleet Intelligence. That holiday in Kauai is how I got into the beautiful mess that ended with you in my arms. We were just starting to think that maybe the Klingons wouldn't kill us all. The Romulans were the new threat, skulking in the darkness and taking up all of your father's time. I was participating in a panel on the law of quadratic reciprocity in Europe and I kept running late; I overslept constantly when I was pregnant with you.

"I've never liked transporters, never had anything against them, but I've never liked them much either. They were a good deal clumsier back them and they always made me light headed. I was convinced that was the problem. I was dizzy because we kept transporting from one university to the other. Berlin, Oslo, Paris...by the time we were in Prague I was so dizzy and sick to my stomach that one of the other panellists, a brilliant, elderly Andorian woman called Grellis, convinced me to go to the medical centre.

"I remember very clearly trying to tell her that I was fine. I didn't want to cause any trouble. She was one of the senior panellists, a great mathematical mind on Andor, and I was one of the youngest. I hadn't published anything yet besides my thesis. I was the least important, but she rescheduled her talk on Guass' Lemma and how it compared to the Andorian version, by a thaan called Mourdak, to go with me to the Federation medical centre in Prague."

"Wait, wait," Kathryn knew one of the names. "You mean RueGrellis sh'Varidan? The head of Andorian physical sciences? The Federation Hawking chair of mathematics?"

"This was over forty years ago dear, she was just a very famous professor when I knew her. I remember sitting there on the biobed, staring at my hands on my knees and wondering how in the galaxy I was going to get through the next eight months when I could only talk to your father on subspace twice a week."

Kathryn's stomach stopped twisting in fear and her heart ached for her mother. She had known her father was gone for a great deal of her childhood but she didn't know it had started so early. Certainly not that he was gone for most of her mother's pregnancy.

"And?"

"When I started to cry and tell the gentle young doctor with the very Czech accent that I couldn't possibly be pregnant; I was supposed to be working on my tenure, the future Federation Hawking chair of mathematics took my hands in her blue ones and told me over and over that it was going to be all right. We had barely talked at all, she was far too important to be burdened by talking to someone like me.

"We had tea in a little cafe by the Vltava river and she told me about her twelve children, and how each of them terrified her from the moment she knew the egg was inside of her. She still writes me. Charming woman. She'll be so happy to know I'm having finally having a grandchild."

Kathryn shook her head slowly and realised she had been entirely distracted from the tricorder scan her mother had just run.

"You're not...I'm not pregnant."

The tricorder had betrayed her and Kathryn couldn't even look at it when her mother set it down on the table.

"Chakotay's a sweet man. Intelligent. Gentle, great sense of humour and he loves you. I like him. He can cook and you need that. He'll be a good father."

Breath shuddered through her chest. "No. Please don't."

"Oh Kathryn, sweetheart." Her mother wrapped her arms around her and held her close, her head on her chest, just as she had when she was a little girl. "You don't have to be happy, not right away. You're going to be a great mother. I'll try not to embarrass you by being all emotional. I know you hate that, but I am so happy for you."

All Kathryn could smell was her mother's faint perfume and the blackberries she'd brought in that morning. "We only- mom, we were only together once."

"Once?" Gretchen's surprise had a note of sympathy. "I thought you two, I mean, you have that box of his and you always bring it with you."

"We- we're..." Kathryn didn't know what to say. She didn't lift her head from her mother's chest. "We're not even in a relationship yet. We talked about it. I'm meeting him in Venice in June."

Her mother's fingers ran over her hair, smoothing it down. "You might want to try and see him earlier than that."

She might have been laughing, or crying, Kathryn couldn't really be sure what the sound was. "I can't. He's on a mission. He won't even be back until May next year. I-"

"Shhh...what kind of mission? The saving the galaxy kind or the routine kind? I do think they occasionally let captains come home earlier from the routine kind."

"It's a survey mission." Kathryn's voice was becoming less and less audible but her mother would understand. She always had.

"Okay, that sounds routine to me. Come sit on the sofa with me. No more work for now." Kathryn left her chair but kept her fingers wrapped tightly around her mother's hand. She wanted to look at the tricorder, just to make sure her mother was right, but she would be and Kathryn didn't think she could take that.

When they sat down, it took all her self control not to bury her face in her mother's shoulder and cry.

"Can you raise him on subspace? Were you planning to keep in touch?"

"I can send a letter, but I don't know if I can get him in real time. I should tell him in real time, shouldn't I? I can't just send a letter. 'Dear Chakotay I'm having your baby, how's the nebula?"

Her mother chuckled. "Maybe you want to lead into it more. Ask about the nebula first."

She wound her fingers over each other nervously and thought about her coffee cup on the table. As much as she wanted it, she was going to have to give it up. She must have grimaced because Gretchen put her arm around her shoulders.

"You don't have to completely give up coffee."

"I don't know if I can give up coffee at all."

The corner of her mother's mouth turned up in a half-smile. "I didn't think I could either, but once morning sickness kicked in I couldn't even stand the smell of coffee. You haven't felt sick?"

"No." Kathryn dropped her head into her hands and rested her elbows on her knees. "Is it bad?"

"It's not bad." Her mother started rubbing her back and kept going as she spoke. "None of it is bad. Being pregnant is uncomfortable, clumsy, and occasionally intensely frustrating, but it's not bad. It's...well, at times poignant, and sometimes it's wonderful. There's a little tiny person, half you, half someone you love very much, and they're never going to be with you quite that way again. Are you going to find out?"

Kathryn sat up in surprise. "Find out? You just found out on the damned tricorder."

"The gender of the baby." Her mother's gentle tone was a sharp contrast to how much Kathryn wanted to snap at her, or the tricorder, or Chakotay for being so terribly far away.

A baby. _Their baby._

She wasn't just pregnant. It wasn't some illness she'd deal with for the next few months before returning to her life: there was a person arriving in the universe at the end of it.

"I can't..." She couldn't face an innocent little baby being entirely dependent on her, not a baby with a gender, who would need a name and a thousand other things.

"Okay," Gretchen soothed. "It's all right. One thing at a time. If it's acceptable, I'll come with you tomorrow, I'm still on summer vacation and I'd like to meet your doctor with you."

"You'd do that?"

"Kathryn, dear, you're my daughter. If there's anything, anything at all, I can do to help you with this. I'd like to be there."

Kathryn grabbed her mother's free hand and held on tight. "Even if there is Starfleet Headquarters?"

"Even if there was Vulcan."

"You hate deserts."

"I love you." Gretchen lifted her chin and smiled at her. "I'm sure San Francisco is lovely in the fall."

"It's foggy."

"As long as it's not hot, dear." She patted Kathryn's hand and then hugged her again. "As long as it's not hot."  


* * *

"Hello Captain Chakotay. I do hope you're well, dear, and that your survey of the Yaris nebula is proceeding ahead of schedule. I hope you'll forgive me taking some of your undoubtedly busy day to prattle on. At this point, if you haven't listened to Kathryn's letter, you should stop mine and listen to that first. Then, once you've had a cup of tea, or a glass of whiskey, come back to this one."

Then Kathryn's mother stopped speaking, picked up her cup and smiled patiently at the screen.

As tempted as Chakotay was to see how long she sat there, or know what he had to get from Kathryn's first, his resolve failed him. He'd been intending to save her letter, to watch it over and over until he had everything she said memorised. They'd spent a great deal of time at high warp and face-to-face subspace had been impossible. It should improve once they reached the nebula, but so far, they were still travelling.

It had only been weeks since he'd held her in his arms, but it felt like eternity. Venice couldn't come soon enough and after that...he doubted either of them would take a long mission away from each other ever again.

Putting down the PADD he'd been working on, Chakotay called up Kathryn's letter. He'd been saving it, hoarding it like the last ration pack, but now his curiosity was raised.

Unlike her mother, who sat perfectly upright in her chair at the table in Kathryn's apartment, Kathryn had obviously been pacing. Her arms were crossed over her chest and she looked unsettled. He immediately wanted to reach into the screen and hold her until she told him what is was.

Even her smile was tentative, even shy, as if she didn't trust herself to maintain it.

"Hello Chakotay. Are you in the ready room or your quarters? For some reason, I always picture you in your quarters, which used to be mine, and that might be behind my reasoning. I do wish you well, not nearly as much as I wish you were here."

Her voice caught and he nearly choked on his tea. Kathryn Janeway, a Starfleet admiral, looked like she was about to cry.

His door chimed once and he paused the letter. Kathryn's blue eyes stayed with him, including the dark circles beneath them and how pale her skin was.

"Captain, I'm sorry to interrupt." Tom stood in front of him, PADD in hand. "Letter from home? Anyone we know?"

"Just Starfleet brass."

His first officer smirked at him. "The coffee-addicted kind?"

"Perhaps."

"Tell her hi from us." Tom's smile warmed. "B'Elanna and I have been trying to help Miral send her a letter. So far she just babbles at the screen, but we thought the admiral might like that."

"I think she would." Chakotay tried not to sigh. Kathryn looked so miserable, maybe Miral's letter would help. There had to be something he could do.

Tom's head tilted and he studied him. "Everything okay?"

"I didn't get very far." He finally sighed, circling the desk, leaning against it and shaking his head. "She looks ill."

"Starfleet Medical's just down the street. Even our admiral shouldn't be able to avoid them forever." Tom's smile faded when he realised the captain's concern. "May I?" He gestured towards the viewer.

He debated between protecting Kathryn's privacy and gaining Tom's opinion, then he turned the viewer. "I don't think she's been sleeping."

"She's pale. Her eyes are puffy. I'd guess a virus. Want me to have our doc take a look at it?"

Chakotay turned the letter back to him and forced himself not to stare at it. "I'm sure she's fine."

"But you're worried."

Picking up his tea, Chakotay sipped it and kept his eyes on Tom. "I worry occasionally."

Tom shrugged easily. "Hey, you'll get no argument from me, B'Elanna or Harry. We all love the admiral. She's family."

Had he jumped or startled on the word love? Tom's eyes had widened and Chakotay knew what surprise looked like on his first officer's face.

"Captain-"

"We're not." Chakotay stumbled over his words, trying to stop Tom before he walked into something Chakotay couldn't explain. "Not yet, anyway. It's a little complicated."

"Complicated can be fun." Tom nodded his head, letting it go. "If you need..."

"Thank you, Tom. I appreciate that."

"Even captains need to talk sometimes. I know I might not have the best track record with relationships, but I like to think I've been doing pretty well in my current set up."

"Tom," he paused and patted the younger man's shoulder, "you've been an incredible husband and father. I'd be lucky to do so well."

"Thanks." Tom's smile was as good as it got. He was touched, and that meant he'd escape before either of them got too emotional. "She'll be all right, the admiral."

"I know."

"It doesn't make you want to stop being there, does it?"

Chakotay had to smile. "It certainly doesn't." He didn't care if Kathryn just had a bad cold. He wanted to be there, to tell her to drink her tea and make sure she had enough sleep.

The door hissed and he reached for Kathryn's letter again. Not even bothering to turn the viewer around or return to his side of the desk, he resumed where he'd left off.

"I have something I need to tell you." Kathryn pursed her lips and looked down at her hands. "I bet right now you're clenching your jaw because you're worried about me, and I must look like a wreck. My mother says I'm just pale, and no one will notice, I'm always pale, but I know you must, and I'm sorry. Chakotay, I'm so sorry."

That catch in her throat bordered on a sob and he hung on her words as if they were the last forcefield between him and an antimatter explosion.

"I don't want to frighten you, or make you upset but I honestly don't know what to say. I-" she swallowed and it sounded painful. With great effort, she looked straight at him through the light years between them.

"I'm pregnant, Chakotay. I don't know what happened. I mean," her hand rose and waved off his imagined response. "I do know how it happened. I was busy and I didn't make sure my inhibitor was up to date. I assume something must have happened with yours as well, not that I blame you, at all. I..." She stopped, visibly trembling as she stood in front of her comm screen.

"My mother's here, and I'm all right. I really, I mean, I will be. It's just been a hell of a shock." Her eyes dropped down again and her hand hovered near her belly without touching it.

"I've been thinking about Venice. I lie in bed and think about Venice, and I know, more than anything else in the universe that when I get there, you'll be waiting for me, because I'll be the one to be late." Her half-smile crept across her face and put light in her eyes.

"I didn't think I'd be bringing a baby." Kathryn tapped her fingers on her forehead and then dropped them. "I'll send you a medical report, when I can, and I'll keep writing you, with everything that...

"I keep running to my mother like I'm a little girl and it's storming outside. I think abut you and I feel like I can hear what you'd say. How you'd tell me that a baby is just wonderful. You're so much better at smiling and seeing the future than I am. I love that about you."

She paused again, searching for words. "Chakotay, I know this is sudden. I know the timing is absurd. I know a thousand reasons why this is absolutely wrong, but I love you, and now that I know..."

Laughing weakly, she shook her head. "I've scanned myself so many times in the last three days that I'm wearing out my tricorder."

Her hand found her belly and stayed there. "I'm pregnant, Chakotay and as terrified as I am, I know because it's ours, it's going to be all right."

He stared at her, dumbstruck, as he listened to the rest of the message. Kathryn was taking a week off to cope. She hadn't been sick much, but she wasn't sure she wouldn't be. Her mother was staying with her and talking about taking a sabbatical to be available for Kathryn through the rest of her pregnancy. Starfleet Medical had assigned her midwife, and she was meeting her on Friday. Tomorrow morning, by his time.

Kathryn ended the letter with the idea that she was due in March, smiling a little. Perhaps Voyager could make it back before then.

His fingers fumbled as he started it and watched it again, sinking into the chair in front of his desk. He stroked the screen, staring into her eyes as she rambled through her shock and uncertainty.

"I'm pregnant, Chakotay..."

Pregnant. The ready room reeled around him, as if he had jumped to warp on his own. Kathryn was terrified, obviously a little under the weather, but she loved him, and she was carrying their child.

He stared at Kathryn's image for a long time. There were traces of her smile in her eyes, and there was hope in her voice beneath the shock. She would put on a brave front for him but he knew how to look through the cracks. As exhausted and fearful as she was, she was trying. She could be happy, when it wore away and she relaxed into what was happening to her.

He wanted to turn the ship around and fly back to Earth at maximum warp. He wanted to hold her until all the trembling went away and she was smiling when she talked about the baby. His uniform and his duty had only been more confining when his father had died.

He would turn his back on neither, now, because he loved his ship and his crew nearly as much as he loved Kathryn. She'd love him as a civilian. If he walked away, she'd love him, but the guilt would eat at her, no matter what he said.

Chakotay looked at his desk, but he couldn't work. He could barely stop himself from laughing and bursting out of the ready room to run laps around the ship. That was it. He was done for the day. Tom could keep the bridge and Starfleet could wait.

He was going to be a father. Kathryn was carrying their child. He needed to mediate; to tell his father what he knew. He had to write Kathryn back, tell her how happy he was; reassure her somehow from light-years away, that she was all right.

Everything was all right.

Leaving the ready room, he tried to keep his expression neutral, but failed utterly when he met Tom's eyes. His smile might have been far too bright for the occasionally of passing the watch, but he couldn't help himself.

He glided down to his quarters. The melancholy and the guilt that he was here and she was on Earth lurched somewhere in the bottom of his stomach but he was so happy he was only vaguely aware of it. Chakotay stopped, inside his quarters and stood in front of the door, smiling into the darkness around him. Even now, the captain's quarters on _Voyager_ still reminded him of her, and the cherished dinners they'd shared.

Shaking himself down back to reality, he went to the replicator and ordered the tea Kathryn's mother had suggested.

Kathryn's mother had sent him a letter. His memory brought up that smile and he chuckled. She definitely knew, and she was happy. It seemed like everyone but Kathryn was. The urge to do something to ease her shock washed over him again.

He had to write her back, even if he stammered and grinned like an idiot through his letter. Maybe that would help her, if she saw how incredibly happy he was. Chakotay wanted her, and if she came with their child...life couldn't be much better than that.

His lips almost ached from smiling.

"Computer, resume playback of the transmission from Gretchen Janeway."

Too excited to sit, he stood, blowing across the top of his tea as she looked back towards him and began to speak. Her deep blue eyes were so much like Kathryn's.

"Congratulations." She beamed at him, sitting forward in her chair. "I wanted to say that in the beginning, but I had to let Kathryn be the one to tell you. She will be happy, eventually. I know you know that, but it might help to have it reinforced."

"I love my daughter, Captain Chakotay, and since she's so head over heels in love with you, I'm going to consider you family. I know we've only met a handful of times, but I feel like I know you, at least, I know Kathryn's version of you. Based on that I'm willing to give both of you my blessing."

She picked up her cup and winked at him. "Do me a favour and tell her I made you work for it."

After she sipped her tea, Gretchen tilted her head to the side and studied him thoughtfully. "Your knowledge of me must be equally second hand, so, I'll make you an offer. Kathryn trusts you, so I will. Any questions, any history, anything you need to know abut your new family, ask, and I'll be honest with you. I'll expect the same honesty in return, which won't be a problem for you. Kathryn tells me you've always been truthful with her. You're her compass."

"Coming from an explorer, that's quite the compliment." She swirled her tea and her smile faded into motherly concern. Would Kathryn speak of their child that way? Chakotay had to reverse the message when he missed some of what Gretchen said. All he could think about was Kathryn and their baby.

"She didn't know, or even suspect she was pregnant, poor dear. It took a bit of convincing to even have her consider that there might be a reason why her bra was too tight and her head was spinning when she stood up. Which, so far, are her most serious symptoms. I know she looks like she's been living in a Cardassian prison, but it seems to be superficial. We can hope it stays that way."

"The foetus is healthy. Conception was easy to pinpoint, thank you for that, and we're talking about a late March, early April baby. I love spring, and the snow will be gone here. I know you're not scheduled back until June, but I'm going to keep up hope that that nebula of yours is just this much smaller than originally thought. Something to bring you home a few weeks early would be nice."

"Kathryn has this week off, so we've been putting in a garden on her balcony of that apartment of hers in San Francisco. I'm sure you've seen it. Plenty of sunlight and she's spoken so fondly of a garden she once had with you, that I thought it would help. She needs a hobby. Something that reminds her of you and being happy seems like a good idea."

She set down her tea and leaned forward. With her hands on her knees, she resembled her daughter very much.

"If you have questions, or worries or things you think are absolutely trivially insane that you must say to someone, write me back. I love my daughter, and since she loves you, it appears I will do the same. Take care of yourself, and your ship. We're going to need you home in one piece. Early would be wonderful."

Gretchen smiled again then disappeared. The Federation symbol hovered the screen and Chakotay smiled at it. He would have smiled at anything.

Kathryn was having their baby. As surprising as it was, the news had raced through him and left nothing but light. He wasn't sure how long it would last, but he had to write her back, he had to tell her he was happy. Maybe that would help ease her fears.  


* * *

The sonic cleanser hummed over the sink on Kathryn's left. The sink had water too, because there was something physiologically comforting about washing your hands in water, even if it was more hygienic to use sound waves. She didn't look up. Admirals had semi-private toilets, and the only people who used this particular one were herself, Admiral Nechayev and their rare visitors. Their aides tended to use the public toilets down the corridor.

Kathryn and Alynna Nechayev talked little. She knew the elder woman had been an admiral longer than many of the human ones, and a little longer than a few of the aliens. Nechayev's rise through the ranks had been efficient enough to border on the meteoric, but she'd never laid any claims on Kirk's record, like a few, charming young male cadets Kathryn had known.

What she knew of Alynna, she knew in passing. The other admiral liked crepes, hated wasted resources, and had been an ice queen of a captain.

Kathryn let the last part slide. She had a nagging suspicion that ice and a few other choice adjectives had been tossed her way on _Voyager_. Now Alynna worked security and interstellar conflict, while Kathryn had been assigned, in Starfleet's great wisdom, to first contact and trade.

Apparently making more first contacts than any other captain, including Picard and Srulla, had made her somewhat of an expert. Not that she felt like one. She didn't meet new species any more; captains did that. Kathryn only filed their paperwork. She read their reports and tried to determine what each new species would gain from Federation trade relations.

The report she'd been trying to read for most of the morning, on an aquatic race called the Yxelmeliquanizzi, or was it Yxelmelzuaniqqi... Didn't matter who they were, really. The report had been swimming in front of her eyes, and the constant descriptions of water and swells had been creating a new and unpleasant tide in her stomach.

She was going to kill Chakotay. If he'd found the time to make his physical, none of this would be happening.

"I didn't know you were going to Romulus."

Kathryn blinked, swallowing the part of her stomach that seemed to constantly be in her throat. The person who had been washing her hands was now talking to her.

She was expected to respond.

"I'm not." Simple answer. Maybe the person would give up and...

"Oh, I thought..." The person with her, distinctive voice identifying her as Alynna, paused. "Why did you get the Cuperic fever vaccine?"

Kathryn had to turn her head. She hated the necessity. She'd been leaning over the sink, staring down at the marble and dark duranium alloy. Her hands were cold, even cramped, and she had no idea how long she'd been standing there.

Turning her head just enough to look at Alynna, she frowned. "What vaccine?"

"The new Cuperic fever vaccine medical came up with. Everyone on the Romulan trade delegation has to get it. Jellico and Ross have been green since yesterday. You looked a little..."

That pause, again. The same one Kathryn's mother had when they talked about how she looked.

Kathryn sighed and stood up. Pushing off from the sink got her upright, but her head wasn't connected properly to the rest of her body and protested accordingly. Grabbing the edge of the sink again, Kathryn had to be grateful for the small hand that steadied her shoulder.

"Shaky." Alynna finished. Was that sympathy in her voice? When had Kathryn become so damn terrible at reading tone?

Alynna's hand remained on her shoulder, a strange lifeline to the outside world, where things held still. Everything inside Kathryn was swirling or carrying on the tide.

"Do you want me to comm over to medical for a doctor?"

One of the supposed perks of Starfleet Headquarters was that Starfleet Medical was just across the street. It made it a lot harder to avoid than sickbay.

"It's nothing."

That wasn't a real answer, but maybe it would be enough for Alynna to give up and leave. She'd been sympathetic. She'd expressed her concern. That was enough and Alynna could go back to what she'd been doing. Unless, of course, she was actually concerned.

Alynna's hand crept up to the back of Kathryn's neck and rested there, cool and still. Kathryn longed to be still, but she'd been in motion for the last two weeks, and _Voyager_ 's inability to report in at warp was making all of it worse.

"'It's nothing' meaning you're fine or 'it's nothing' meaning you already know what's causing the problem, and we're not worrying about it?"

Problem solving: the mark of a good officer.

Kathryn let her eyelids flit closed. Darkness made it easier to concentrate on simple things, like speech.

"The latter."

"Kathryn-"

"Hmm?"

"Why are you at the office?" Alynna's sympathy had faded into an amused kind of pity. "We have sick days."

"It wasn't-"

"This bad when you left your apartment," Alynna finished the statement. "Okay. Sit."

"What?"

"Sit down, knees up, head between them."

Alynna was almost as bad as Kathryn's mother; she pried Kathryn's grip off the sink and sat down next to her on the cool floor of the nicest toilet Kathryn had ever had.

Alynna tapped the sink with her hand and it obediently opened a drawer full of towels. Water ran into the basin over Kathryn's head, and she tried to to let the spots on the marble floor swim together. The other woman sat down cross legged in front of her, still perfectly poised and slipped the damp towel onto the back of Kathryn's neck. "If you're not planning some leisure trip to Romulus, what's the matter?"

Laughing was not one of Kathryn's brighter ideas, but the sheer ridiculousness of the situation made it impossible to push aside. Starfleet admirals did not sit on the floor in the toilets and talk about their personal lives. What would the Romulans think?

She was going to have to tell Alynna, and after her she'd have to tell her superiors, and an ever-growing list of people. Kathryn had already written to Tuvok, but she'd been too embarrassed to speak with him on the _Titan_ in real time. She'd have to write B'Elanna and Tom, before they thought she was keeping secrets, and then it would get around the fleet. The Doctor would fuss. Seven was already going through so much with the new Borg threat, she didn't want to make the younger woman uncomfortable. Captain Riker would tease her. Picard would probably send a tasteful bottle of wine that she wouldn't be able to drink for the next year.

None of them were here. Only Admiral 'Ice Queen' Nechayev and the walls of the toilet.

Kathryn lifted her gaze to Alynna's. "I'm pregnant."

Very gently, Alynna patted the back of Kathryn's hand as it clutched her knee. "And here I thought you were married to the 'fleet, like I am. You know, when I received my Admiral's bars, the saying was babies, grandchildren or married to the fleet. All the female admirals had either rushed past the captain's chair to have children, were already comfortably of an age where they could watch their grandchildren head to the Academy, or married to the fleet. I suppose you fooled me into thinking you were the latter."

"I should-"

To Kathryn's surprise, Alynna waved her quiet. "No one will come looking for us. We're the brass, remember? If you'll permit me to ask...how far along are you?"

She didn't know. How could she not...Kathryn sighed again with a little shake of her head. "Ten weeks."

"May I assume from the way you look like someone's taken over your starship that you and the captain didn't plan this baby?"

A baby...it really was a baby. That part was still unbelievable.

Alynna's hand rested on Kathryn's knee, and then ran up and down her shin. " _Voyager's_ been out of comm traffic for how long, the last month? He didn't know when he left, did he?"

What could she say? How could it be that easy to guess that Kathryn had to tell Chakotay he was about to become a father over subspace? One he couldn't even respond to until _Voyager_ was through the heavy ion activity and dropped out of warp.

"Kathryn," Alynna's voice dropped, softening even further. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry you have to go through by yourself. Captain Chakotay's a good man, he'll be an excellent father. I've read his file."

Kathryn laughed weakly, Alynna's attempt to cheer her up worked a little. Of course, the other admiral had never met Chakotay, but that his file proved he'd be a good father was typical Starfleet reasoning. Everything about them was in their files. Hers probably read _Loves children but still doesn't think she's ready for one._

She wasn't. She was no more prepared to be a parent than she knew how to deal with her unrelenting nausea and the damn dizziness that came with it. It was all one giant mess of hormones and Chakotay didn't even know it was his fault.

Which it wasn't but thinking it was made her feel a little better.

Alynna Necheyev, the not-so-frigid Ice Queen, held her hand until Kathryn's stomach stopped twisting and getting to her feet stopped feeling like the worst suggestion since repulser beams.  



	2. Chapter 2

"She looks sick." B'Elanna's off-hand comment startled Chakotay's attention up from the report she'd just handed him.

"Pardon?"

"The admiral." B'Elanna took a step closer to the comm panel were Kathryn's message still sat open, waiting for him to reply. "She looks sick. Her skin's too pale, and she has dark circles under her eyes. How hard are they working her back on Earth?"

Chakotay couldn't argue that Kathryn looked well. To B'Elanna's practised and knowing eyes, Kathryn looked like hell. Maybe she really did. Chakotay was still so excited about the baby that he nearly vibrated with the idea. He just hadn't noticed. Kathryn was beautiful, frightened and a little overwhelmed, but absolutely beautiful all the same.

B'Elanna saw it differently. "Don't you see the marks beneath her eyes? She looks like she did when we were running from the Oluksaan patrol ships. When she hadn't slept in five days and Tom caught her hallucinating on the bridge?"

That Chakotay remembered all too vividly. Though none of the patrols had found them, Kathryn had been so exhausted by the end that he worried if she'd even make it back to her quarters on her own feet.

If B'Elanna thought it was that bad... He attempted cleared his head of his joy and failed. Centring himself slowly, he did better the second time. B'Elanna was right, of course. Kathryn looked like hell warmed over and poured into her uniform.

What could he say? Should he lie? Did he dare tell B'Elanna the truth without talking to Kathryn about who they wanted to tell? Could he even lie to B'Elanna?

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing." His answer was too quick, and no captain's rank would protect him from his best friend's glare. "She hasn't been feeling well."

"And she can't walk across the grass to Starfleet Medical? The admiral's on Earth. I believe they have a hell of a lot of doctors." B'Elanna uncrossed her arms and pointed at the screen. "Did you tell her to go see one?"

"She has."

"And?"

"And she's fine. Nothing's wrong."

He should have dismissed her. He could have sent her away and kept Kathryn's secret.

"What kind of--"

When B'Elanna cut off, he was a dead man. She didn't need to finish her thought. Chakotay knew what she was going to say and her eyes shifted from angry to livid.

"You and the admiral...and you were going to tell me, when? When she went into labour?" The PADD in her hand was suddenly a deadly weapon as she held it up in front of his chest. "You're...and you didn't tell me?"

A younger B'Elanna, the woman he'd first met, would have smacked him across the face with the PADD. Once she'd joined the Maquis, she knew enough of finesse to hit him with the PADD instead. Now, a grown woman with a husband and daughter, B'Elanna no longer needed to hit him to bring him to his knees.

"You and the admiral were the first to congratulate Tom and I when we found out I was pregnant. You were the ones we talked too. That we came to for advice. I…dammit, Chakotay, you were the first person I told about Tom."

She shook her head, pulled her hand back and folded her arms tightly over her chest. "Tom and I are helping the baby write the admiral after dinner. I hope you make sure she's taking care of herself. I'll see you in the morning. Congratulations, Captain."  


* * *

She couldn't remember the last time she'd been in a line. Lines were not part of being an admiral. Meetings started when she arrived. Food arrived and people began to eat when she sat down. Starfleet admirals did not stand in lines. Hell, even captains didn't do it much.

Kathryn rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet and stared at the serpentine line of people ahead of her. They wound around the entrance hall to Zartoarin Prime, all waiting to pass through immigration. Zartoarin Prime was not part of the Federation. The tall, wiry, bird-like aliens weren't even a Federation Protectorate. They maintained sovereign space and had their own laws regarding transit. Of course, Phoebe would find a way to be on the most distant and quaint of backwater planets. Kathryn couldn't even remember the last time she'd been asked to prove her identity.

When she was on a starship, she was the captain and that was it. She just flew through. Part of the many wonders of a starship was the ability to go wherever she pleased. Thinking about starships inevitably lead to thinking about Voyager and the handsome, gentle-hearted captain of Voyager who was far too outside subspace comm range to think about.

Thinking about Chakotay reminded her how much she missed him. Missing him made her nauseated, arguably the two weren't related, but since they were both omnipresent, Kathryn had decided they were connected.

Even allowing herself the momentarily recognition of her nausea made it worse. Kathryn folded her arms tightly over her breasts, which hurt, like they always did, so that distracted her momentarily. The idea that her nausea, which so far had stubbornly remained a background problem that had not yet escalated to vomiting, might finally take the next step, culminating in her spilling the contents of her stomach onto the shoes of the obnoxious couple in front of her.

It would be worth it. If she had to listen to the two of them talk about how good the shopping was outside of Federation space for one more minute…

Maybe she'd be lucky and pass out first. She was lightheaded again, she was always lightheaded, just not enough to pass out.

She bounced again on the balls of her feet, wishing they didn't ache. Was it the non-Starfleet issue boots? Maybe there was something to be said for Starfleet design. She missed her uniform boots. Her feet hurt after her shifts, but her shifts were sixteen hours long. Everything hurt.

Except, today she wasn't working. She was trying to visit her damn sister and her damn opera opening. She didn't give a damn about which ancient opera was going to be performed for the first time on this planet nor did she care why anyone else wanted to listen to it. For all her faults, and as much as it exhausted her just to listen to Phoebe's letters, she was her sister; Kathryn wanted to see her.

Even if that meant surviving this endless line.

Provided she even could.

She dug her fingers into the pressure points at the top of her nose and sighed.

What was Phoebe going to say? Kathryn could have predicted what her mother said. Gretchen loved the idea of grandchildren, she loved being pregnant, and she loved her children. It was easy. She'd had- well, she hadn't had her father. Edward had been nearly always gone with the fleet. He'd been present for her birth, but Kathryn knew that was just barely.

Could she face having this baby alone? She stopped her hand before she rested it on her belly. So far pregnancy was exhausting and confusing; her own body was against her, imprisoning her within. Childbirth didn't frighten her, pain was endurable.

She wasn't afraid of carrying this baby alone. She'd survive. The thought that nagged her, the thing that clawed at the back of her mind, was the moment in the near future- and thinking about it made her eyes sting- where someone would hand her a baby, and with that all the responsibility that followed.

She needed Chakotay for that. He was everything she wasn't, patient, calm and loving in the way she needed to be loved. She needed him for this. Her thumb stroked across her stomach, then she let her hand stop and rest over the baby. Forgetting the people around her and all the sounds of half-conversations and shuffling feet, she shut her eyes. For one, stolen, quiet moment, she thought about the baby, and how much she already loved that life. However small, fragile and secret it was, she loved their child.

Kathryn didn't know if the baby could know that. She didn't know how she could possibly communicate all the warmth in her heart, even when she hated how hard it was to sleep, and how fear had settled in like a spider roosting in the corner of her mind: she loved the baby.

He or she had to know that. It had to be possible. She, well, she wouldn't know what to do if the baby could sense her doubts and fears.

"It's not you." She repeated to herself, over and over in the back of her mind. "I'm not afraid of you. I love you."  


* * *

Sweat eased a lot of problems. Working himself until he was wet and trembling chased away anger. That kind of physical self-abuse eased frustration and quieted his mind. Chakotay needed to sleep. He had a ship to run, and for all the times he'd told Kathryn a ship did not benefit from an exhausted captain, he was running the risk of becoming one himself.

Thankfully they were still at warp, and he had little to do other than catching up on his Starfleet correspondence. He'd written Sekya at least six times and Kathryn's mother twice. No matter how many times he started to write Kathryn, he'd inevitably stop and delete it. Nothing felt like the right thing to say. He wanted to hold her, more than anything, he wanted to kiss her over and over and tell her how incredible her pregnancy was.

He'd only contemplated parenthood once before, when Seska had informed him of his unintended son. Chakotay had been angry, afraid, even lost…but Kathryn had helped him. She'd trusted him. She'd been willing to risk her ship, ask their crew to risk their lives, to save his son.

She'd had faith then; Kathryn had faith in him now. She knew their child would be all right. What could he say? How could he reassure her? What did she need from him? What could he possibly do from hundreds of light years away?

And yet, no matter how much he worried, he couldn't sleep because he was excited. He was too giddy to sleep. He had barely managed to contain himself enough to meditate and tell his father. Having a child with Kathryn was beyond his expectations, beyond what he imagined could be possible for them. He thought they'd date, that they'd be together; the baby was beyond them.

He loved them both, his unexpected family, and taking them into his heart had remade his existence, changed his universe like his own personal Big Bang. He was theirs and his life would revolve around what his family needed.

Not that he could do much for them from here. He might as well have been in the Delta Quadrant for all the comfort and support he could offer Kathryn. She wouldn't receive his letter, provided he found the words for one, for another week, possibly even two.

Chakotay rolled his hands through the towel on his neck. Perhaps after he showered, he'd try writing her again, finally find what he wanted to say.

Circling a corner, he found Tom walking slowly through the deserted corridor. Miral was cradled against his chest, the toddler's arms around his neck and her legs dangling limp from sleep.

Tom smiled sheepishly over her shoulder. "Mommy needed to sleep, so we went for a walk. She's heavy, but if I walk long enough, she usually gives in and falls asleep."

Would he do the same thing? Walk until their daughter slept in his arms? Or would it be a little boy with Kathryn's cheekbones and and his dark hair?

Tom's eyebrows raised, as if he'd been Betazoid and reached out to read Chakotay's mind. His voice was soft, knowing what fragile things he was bringing up.

"Last time B'Elanna was that upset with me, I had to sleep on Harry's couch. If you need to talk..."

For a moment, he just stood there, staring at his first officer. While he was tongue-tied when he opened a letter to Kathryn, his chest burned with unuttered words. Chakotay sighed, inclining his head towards to Mess Hall. "Will she sleep if we sit for awhile?"

"You can sit." Tom shifted the burden of his daughter in his arms. "You'll have to put up with me swaying back and forth."

"I'll try not to get seasick."

"Seems fair."

The empty mess hall was dark, a quiet refuge. Chakotay replicated a cup of tea. When he looked at Tom, he grinned.

"Beer, if you don't mind spending the rations."

Chakotay almost laughed. His smile brightened and warmth spread through him. How long had it been since he worried about replicator rations? Just over a year? In a way, he missed them. The camaraderie of trying to make sure everyone had enough to avoid whatever had leola root in it.

He set his tea down and held up Tom's beer so he could drink it. Tom gulped a sip and nodded his thanks. He rocked back and forth, slowly keeping a rhythm as his daughter slept.

"Crackers help. Ginger ale, peppermint tea, plain toast…simple things." Tom shrugged a little when Chakotay met his eyes. "B'Elanna was worried. Half-Klingon's get dizzy but they don't get nauseated."

"B'Elanna hates being nauseated." Chakotay had almost forgot. He'd been so distracted by how he felt that he hadn't spared any part of his overworked brain to wonder how his impending fatherhood might affect their friends, who all loved Kathryn.

"Our admiral has my wife's deepest sympathies."

Tom eyed his beer over his daughter and then looked thoughtfully at Chakotay. "Could you take her for a moment? It's not so bad when it's just my arms asleep, but my shoulders are starting to go too."

"She won't?" Chakotay couldn't contain his surprise. Not that he minded Miral. She was adorable, and she did seem to like him a little. She even smiled at him when she saw him.

"Keep rocking and she'll keep sleeping. Just let me say, that for the benefit of everyone on board, that's what we want."

Chakotay took a quick gulp of his tea, mildly scalding his tongue, but he didn't have time to think about it.

"Watch her head, that's it, she'll settle."

As Miral snuggled in, still asleep and headless of the sweat from his workout, Chakotay smiled. The complete trust the little toddler showed in him was both comforting and disarming.

"See, she likes you."

"She threw food at me last time she saw me."

Tom chuckled, rolling his shoulders. "We're working on sharing. Throwing food is a start. We think she might be trying to share."

Chakotay bit his lip, trying to swallow his laughter before it woke Miral. "Glad you're having such success."

Pulling his arms one at a time over his head to stretch them out, Tom beamed. "Everything's progress." He shook out his arms and started flexing his wrists. "So, you want to tell me about the admiral?"

If anyone had told Chakotay, eight years ago, that one day he'd be standing with Tom Paris, asking his advice on parenting, he would have had them hauled off. Maybe even hit them himself. Yet here he was, holding B'Elanna and Tom's daughter against his chest as he tried to find what he needed to say. Watching Tom sip his beer, Chakotay's gaze fell on the foam. His thoughts were just as opaque and insubstantial.

"I'm going to guess this wasn't planned."

"No." Chakotay sighed. "Definitely not."

"But you had talked about having children?"

He shifted Miral's head to his other shoulder and met Tom's eyes helplessly. "No, not…not at all actually."

"if you don't mind me asking, how long have you been together? Since we got back or…?"

Chakotay stopped rocking back and forth and Miral started to stir.

Tom quickly gestured with his hands. "Just keep moving. Even pacing works."

Circling the table while embarrassment heated his face, Chakotay sighed and finally confessed. "When we were on Proxima Station, we had dinner."

Shock slacked Tom's face. "You, I mean, then, that was just--"

"About eleven weeks ago."

"So you-- and then she?" Tom grabbed his beer then set it back down without taking a drink. "The first time?"

"The only time." Chakotay added, stopping his circle of the table and rocking back and forth. "She's doing the best she can. It's just not easy."

"Better you than me."

Chakotay didn't follow and Tom laughed.

"After the warp ten incident, back when she was still the captain, we were in sickbay, waiting for the Doc to tell us we weren't going to turn back into salamanders. She told me she had often thought of having children, just not with me. I think you're a much better choice, though, she probably didn't have you in mind at the time either."

Tom stared down at his drink, then up at his daughter, still thankfully asleep. "You know, you look good with a kid. Eleven weeks, that doesn't give you a lot of time. This survey mission is supposed to take us another seven months, and you don't want to be out here the whole time. Pregnant's kind of fun."

Chakotay's face burned, both with pleasure and embarrassment. Kathryn would be beautiful pregnant. He couldn't say if he'd get to see her in person, but he knew they'd be all right.

"The kid part's a lot of fun too." Tom added. "Even passing them off to someone else occasionally."

"What do I tell B'Elanna?"

Tom winced a little then scratched the back of his head. "The truth. Quickly, before she throws things at you."

"I wasn't trying to hide anything-"

"I know."

"I only just found out this afternoon."

Tom raised a hand in defense. "Hey, hey, I'm on your side. You want my advice?"

Chakotay's chest was lighter at the thought. "Please."

"Ask B'Elanna's help. Tell her you're overwhelmed by the whole thing. Tell her you don't know what to tell our admiral. She's your best friend, treat her like it and she'll forgive you in no time."  


* * *

Phoebe tilted back her head, closed her eyes, even though they were beneath her dark sunglasses, and sighed heavily.

"Is she late yet?"

At her side, her lover of the last eight months, Eirixa Xhezin, smirked and ran her hand playfully through the ends of Phoebe's short auburn hair. "She was late an hour ago, but you know how it is with customs. We forgot it even exists inside the Federation, but once you're outside it's a whole different galaxy."

"Peek in her head and see if she's out here yet, would you?" Phoebe shoved her sunglasses up, and settled back against the bench in the sunshine. It was a calm spring day in the capital city of Anoraen. The air was cool but the sun had the promise of summer's heat in it. Phoebe would be happier when it was warm. She absorbed the sun like a sea otter.

Eirixa kissed her bare forehead and quieted her thoughts. It was doubtful she'd find Kathryn in the sea of minds on the other side of interstellar port control. As a Betazoid Eirixa was telepathic, but she was most skilled in sending, and visual images were far easier for her than emotions or thoughts. As a trained singer-sender in the Betazoid opera, she'd honed her abilities and could make the most of her ability to create and share an image with a telepathic audience.

Kathryn was not telepathic, and making her think she was somewhere else would probably cause commotion. Erixa's other telepathic skills were lax, and she contently usually allowed them to be so. Phoebe's busy, determined mind was her constant companion, and since her lover always said exactly that she was thinking, mind-reading wasn't something she often needed to do.

She pondered the idea while Phoebe stretched out in the sun. Phoebe's mind was intimately familiar, and Kathryn's had to be similar. Maybe if she reached out, looking for what was Phoebe and not Phoebe at the same time, she could find her. Her brothers were always teasing her that just because she was extraordinarily gifted in one area, didn't mean she could let her mind go dark in others.

She was dreadfully out of practice and there were hundreds of minds around. As a test of her abilities, she'd picked a nastily hard one. Not that she ever let that stop her, and even as she realised how much of a headache this was going to give her, Eirixa quieted her thoughts, reached deep within to centre herself then let her mind wander in search of Kathryn Janeway.

Human minds had an earnestness and insatiable curiosity that made them easy to pick out from the other species around them. Out on the galactic fringe, there were few humans and ignoring everything else made her task that much easier. As Phoebe sighed and shifted on the stone bench beside her in the sunlight square, Eirixa focused on her mind, then looked for what was like her.

She found one human mind full of happy anticipation and Eirixa almost decided that had to be Kathryn, except, Kathryn and Phoebe spoke so rarely that the joy of that mind didn't fit. She wanted someone logical and controlled; a Starfleet honed mind would be orderly and calm, even with the frustration of a queue.

Eirixa's eyes were starting to hurt, a definite sign that she was pushing too hard, but she thought she had Kathryn's mind. She felt a little like Phoebe, same determination, same quirky sense of humour, but with an extra level of restraint and a kind of exhaustion that turned Eirixa's stomach. Either it had been a very long trip or Kathryn was about to be sick.

Swallowing hard against a wave of nausea that was almost her own, she sat up and startled Phoebe's head off of her shoulder.

"What?"

"Is she sick?"

Phoebe blinked, antique sunglasses falling to her nose. "Kathryn?"

"I-" she shook her head and tried to refocus. Sometimes her mental abilities were unreliable but this didn't feel that way. Eirixa rubbed her palms against her skirt, trying to dry the sweat that had appeared. "I think she's sick."

"Kathryn doesn't get sick." Phoebe assured her, straightening her sunglasses and reaching down to stroke the lazy dog at her feet. The huge green-grey mutt they'd picked up in a shelter on Betazed, Bruekelen, rested his eyes on his mistress before dropping his head back down. His sister, Maggie, pawed at Eirixia's feet before settling back into the sun. The dogs were too big for their apartment, too big for the shuttles they travelled in, but far too sweet to live without. Phoebe said they resembled Terran dogs called Newfoundlands, but Eirixa thought she saw Betazoid Mastiff's in their jet black eyes.

Where the green in their fur had come from was anyone's guess, and they'd grown much bigger than anyone had anticipated.

Thankfully, Kathryn loved dogs, so her two week visit should be all right. Hopefully she wouldn't mind Maggie in bed with her, or Bruekelen headbutting her to be stroked.

Eirixa sighed and reached down to stroke Maggie's soft, warm head. "She feels sick to me. If I found her."

"Control freak, genius, confident, infallible, unstoppable, capt-admiral- she doesn't get sick. She's Starfleet."

Tilting her head and trying to shake what she'd felt, Eirixa shook her head toward Phoebe. "She's sick. She's nauseated enough that I can feel it. I'm not that much of a kinaesthetic telepath but…"

"I trust you." Phoebe kissed her cheek, distracting Eirixa from Kathryn's nausea. "You thought she looked pale in her letter."

"You didn't watch it."

"I know what my sister looks like. I listened, that's enough." Phoebe stood up and stretched her arms slowly. Bruekelen sat up, ready to follow her if they were moving. She patted him and turned back to Eirixa. "She doesn't usually take time off. If she is sick, she might be avoiding mom."

Eirixa grinned a little at that idea. Betazoid mothers were some of the most overbearing in the galaxy, but Phoebe had adapted instantly to Eirixa's mother, Jol. Having met Gretchen, Eirixa found her very competent, caring and intelligent. Phoebe said she was too much of all those things, and she suspected Kathryn agreed.

It was hard to tell with Kathryn. Phoebe idolised her sister, but kept her at arm's length. Perhaps the three Janeways had too much spirit between them to get along without the space they kept.

"She's through." Eirixa reported. A sudden rush of relief was impossible to dismiss as anything else. "Be gentle."

Phoebe bounced in place, trying to get a look over by the door. "Gentle?"

The dogs got to their feet and wagged their great plumed tails, sensing Phoebe's excitement.

Eirixa brushed their minds and calmed them with a mental image of Kathryn Janeway. The dogs seemed content with that and companionably fell in step behind.

"She's fragile."

"Fragile?" Phoebe laughed and took her hand. "My sister? My big bad 'I beat the Delta Quadrant' sister? She's incapable of being fragile."

Eirixa squeezed Phoebe's hand and wished she could share what she felt. Phoebe's carefree smile had concern beneath it, but she'd made a lifelong habit of being the baby sister. If Kathryn was as bad at accepting help as Phoebe was, it was going to be an interesting visit. She muttered a quick prayer to the Four Deities that she'd have any patience left at the end. One Janeway was a blessing, if a damn stubborn one. Two…would be challenge.

* * *

Dropping her bag to flagstones beneath her feet, Kathryn put both hands on the stone planter full of bright orange flowers in front of her and wondered if she was really going to vomit. She'd made it the last three weeks without, but some combination of the alien sun, the dinner she'd forced down too quickly and her damn persistent hormones had her stomach twisting like a subspace rupture.

Wondering what Phoebe would say if Kathryn greeted her by throwing up in some undoubtedly precious flowers, she had to smile wearily. In all her memories, Phoebe had rescued her once, when her depression had consumed her after her father's and Justin's death. Other than that, they let each other live their separate lives. Phoebe's letters never failed to make her smile, and she always responded to Kathryn's.

Kathryn didn't know why she was here. She could have spent her leave on Earth, or refused to take it, but she'd found a transport route out here to the middle of nowhere, and she was headed for her baby sister's spare bedroom.

Provided she could let go of the stone planter.

"Since when do you get spacesick?" A very familiar voice taunted just behind her head. Two large and inquisitive canine heads slipped beneath her arms and Kathryn had to stand up before they knocked her over in their curiosity.

"Back ruffians," a softer, more lilting voice called to the dogs. "Let her be."

The dog on her left retreated, but the one on her right remained, whining in what Kathryn knew was sympathy. Dropping to a crouch to look into the animal's completely black eyes, she had to catch the dog's shoulders for balance. The animal responded by nosing her with a very large black snout.

Someone with dark hair, definitely not Phoebe, crouched at Kathryn's side. She had almond-shaped eyes, with characteristically black Betazoid irises. Her thick black hair was entirely straight and fell to her waist. This woman, who had to be the Eirixa Phoebe kept mentioning, smiled gently and steadied Kathryn's hands on the huge dog.

"This is Maggie. The one who doesn't think he's a nurse is Breukelen. They'll shed on everything you brought, but they're very gentle giants." She paused, studying Kathryn's face and undoubtedly reading her nausea in her thoughts and her features. "She'll let you hang on as long as you need to."

"You really are in bad shape, aren't you Katiedid?" Phoebe crouched down on the other side of Maggie, both eyebrows up in surprise. "You catch Terrellian plague on the way over?"

Kathryn winced, both from the old nickname and the idea that she was so visibly ill. She hated both almost as much as she loathed her stomach for turning traitor.

"Sit." Eirixa suggested.

Maggie sat obediently and Kathryn had to giggle weakly as she half-collapsed into following suit.

Phoebe caught her chin, trying to look into her eyes. "Do you need a med centre?"

"No." Kathryn shut her eyes and leaned forward into Maggie's thick coat. She smelt of grass and trees; it was incredibly comforting. A hand ran gently up and down her shoulder. "I'll be all right in a moment."

"We're not in a hurry." Eirixa's voice was definitely accented with old Betazoid, something Kathryn didn't hear often outside of the Federation Senate. She must have been from one of the noble houses, but Phoebe hadn't mentioned it.

"Katiedid, what _did_ you do to yourself?" Phoebe sighed, clucking her tongue. "Overindulge on the inflight bar?"

Something passed silently between Eirixa and Phoebe and her sister's teasing tone faded away. Instead of mocking, Phoebe wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

"You can tell me you know. I promise to make sure Starfleet doesn't cashier you down to commander again for lewd behaviour."

Kathryn's chuckle caught painfully in her throat. She had tears in her eyes when she lifted her head away from the bulk of Maggie and looked at her sister.

"Hey--" Phoebe cooed, reaching for her. "It's okay."

"It's not."

When tears began to escape the confines of her stinging eyes, they barely had time to run before a large green tongue intercepted them.

Phoebe hugged her close around the dog and Kathryn tumbled into her.

"I promise, it's okay. Starfleet will--"

"I'm pregnant." It escaped as if Kathryn's internal containment fields had all collapsed at once. She was so tired, and Phoebe and Eirixa and their dogs were all so kind.

Phoebe stiffened as if she'd been stunned. She was still for a moment, then hugged Kathryn even tighter.

"Okay, so, Starfleet might need to know that one."

"And no drinking." Eirixa weighed in, rubbing Kathryn's back with a slow, steady hand.

"Definitely no drinking. Though, you can still pretend to get sloshed on synthahol if you want. That can be fun." Phoebe released her and patted her cheek. "So, Katiedid have at least one good night, didn't she?"

The irony of that made Kathryn's tears run so quickly even Maggie's huge tongue had trouble keeping up.

"Oh, Kathryn, sweetie, you didn't…he's not--"

When Kathryn failed to speak and looked desperately at the telepath, Eirixa plucked it from her mind.

"He's alive," she promised Phoebe.

Kathryn shot her a grateful glance.

"Someone with a dark mark…a tattoo?"

Phoebe's eyes narrowed. "You didn't."

Kathryn gulped and found enough space in her throat to whisper. "We did."

Phoebe kissed her cheek, startling Kathryn right out of her tears. "I'm so proud of you. He's adorable. So tall, dark and rawr…"

Both dogs looked at Phoebe as she rumbled a growl in her throat. Eirixa laughed and kissed Kathryn's forehead. She wouldn't have even allowed her mother to do that, but it happened too quickly for her to react.

"Congratulations."

"He's gorgeous." Phoebe promised Eirixa. "Absolutely gorgeous, intelligent, in Starfleet so he won't get mad that he has to share. I like him. If I was into men and Kathryn let him go…"

Kathryn grabbed her sister's hand off her cheek and held it tight. "Thank you."

"You're going to be fine. A few years in the Starfleet gym and you might even get your figure back."

Phoebe's attempt to be serious made Kathryn first wince, then try to laugh at the same time. She hadn't even thought about losing her figure. All the time she spent working out to keep her uniform fitting in all the right places, and so she could glare back at the older, less in shape admirals who never passed their annual fitness tests.

"And Katiedid, dearest, maybe this is a good thing. I mean…just look at your breasts. You could wear all sorts of things you never would have before."

"They are rather lovely." Eirixa added, reaching down to help Kathryn back up to her feet. When Kathryn leaned a little heavily on the dog, Maggie rubbed against her, seeming to understand.

"Come on, we can replicate you crackers and watch old holovids with the dogs. I still have Jianna, Star Princess and the Search for the Blue World."

"You still…?" They'd watched that when Phoebe was barely three. How she could have possibly found it and held on to it was completely beyond Kathryn. "Really?"

"She has it memorised." Eirixa insisted, smiling. "The costumes are my favourite part."

"It'll be all right." Phoebe rubbed Kathryn's shoulder. "Chakotay will come back, and you'll curl up together with the baby before you go back to work. You can teach her to do algebra, or him how stars stay up in the sky. You'll be a great mom, Katiedid, a real nerdy one, but great."

Kathryn smiled weakly. It took all her energy to keep her lips upturned. "Thanks."  


* * *

Phoebe and Eirixa have a spare room, but she can't help falling asleep on the sofa. Even on leave, she had much to do, and when Phoebe woke up to let out the dogs, Kathryn caught her half-smile. Kathryn set aside the PADD she'd been clutching in her sleep and contemplated Phoebe and Eirixa's kitchen. She wasn't hungry, she never really is now that nausea has settled in like a parasitic orgasm sharing her stomach with the baby, but she should eat.

She dragged herself off the sofa, pulling the blanket someone put over her around her shoulder and creeps into the kitchen. It was still spring, and the floor was still cool beneath her bare feet. Kathryn leaned on the wall next to the replicator, running mentally through the list of things she trusted herself to keep down.

"Coffee, black. Lemon ginger tea and toast."

The replicator paused, taking in her request. "Specify bread."

"Whatever is most used." Phoebe must have a favourite. She had always been especially good at stocking a replicator's database.

The replicator hummed and her breakfast appeared. Coffee made her nauseated, but she had yet to find anything that doesn't. Kathryn clung to the cup, setting her tea and plain toast aside. She will make the attempt at both in a moment, after her coffee.

Tapping the comm panel, she checked for messages, as she had too many times a day since she arrived.

"Phoebe Janeway, four new messages. Eirixa Xhezin, one new and three saved messages. Admiral Kathryn Janeway, two new messages."

Even though she knew better, Kathryn's heart jumped into her throat. Yesterday Tuvok wrote back from the _Titan_ , reminding her to take care of herself, and her mother writes twice a week. It was probably her mother and Starfleet. She won't think about Chakotay.

"Origin and senders of messages for Admiral Janeway?"

"Grid four-four-two, Federation Starship Voyager, Captain Chakotay, and Lieutenant Commander B'Elanna Torres."

She set the cup down on the counter before her hands failed her. With trembling fingers, she pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders. "Computer, date of messages?"

"Stardate 56832.1."

Two days ago.

She reached for her toast, she should eat it while she listened to him, but her hands were still shaking. Flattening them out on the counter, she dropped her head, letting her gaze fall past her breasts to her still flat stomach. Maybe listening to B'Elanna's first would make it easier to hear what Chakotay had to say.

Not that she doubted him. Kathryn couldn't. He'd loved her for years when she couldn't love him back, when she didn't have the strength.

Her voice was nearly as unreliable as her hands. "Computer, play message."


	3. Chapter 3

_March 2380_

"Thirteen kilograms, is that enough?" Chakotay circled his CMO's desk and handed her another communication from Kathryn. "She's only gained thirteen kilograms since before she was pregnant."

"I'm sure it doesn't feel like only to only thirteen kilograms to Admiral Janeway." Doctor Sahn Preia took the scan from his hand and held it up, reading through with expert eyes. "The baby's perfectly healthy. Gaining weight very well, which is what you want at this point."

"Kathryn to gain weight?" He perched on the corner of her desk, leaning over her shoulder and peering down.

"The baby to gain weight. All the baby really does for the last month is gain weight. It goes from being a skinny little thing to a fat, round, rosy-cheeked little monster." Preia patted his cheek, grinning indulgently as his dimples appeared in response to her teasing. "I do hope little baby Janeway gets those."

"Are they dominant?"

Preia tilted her head, her short red hair tumbling to the side as she thought about it. "They're a dominant gene. I'd say baby Janeway has a good shot at getting one or two. My grandmother used to say the Prophets came down to pinch the cheeks of babies with dimples…of course, I was five and I was grateful no one wanted to pinch me."

Chuckling, Chakotay watched her call up Kathryn's latest scan on the monitor behind her desk. "And everything's all right?"

"Of course!" She smacked his shoulder and rolled her eyes. "Prophets help me. Yes, she's absolutely fine. The baby's absolutely fine, from head to toe. If you really want something to fuss about, Kathryn's ankles are a bit swollen, and she's been complaining of joint pain, which is entirely normal, but it gives you something to worry about."

"Her feet hurt." He studied his CMO, and then retreated to the replicator for a mug of tea.

"Feet, knees, ankles, hips, lower back--" Preia studied the data packet and tapped her computer. "Doctor Patel on Earth sent us a holorecording of the baby moving around, if you can tear yourself away from the bridge, Captain."

If he had any room left to smile, Chakotay's happiness pushed his mouth wider. "I don't know how they'll manage to survey the nebula without me."

"Exactly." Preia feigned a heavy sigh and headed for the door on her way to the holodeck. "It's going to be rough of out there. Someone might take a scan of the wrong cloud of gas or document some stray ions."

"Prophets forbid." Chakotay grabbed her around the shoulders and squeezed, grateful once again that she was so patient with him. "Can't have the wrong ions documented."

His CMO had been more than tolerant of his obsession with Kathryn's pregnancy. Since he'd first arrived in Preia's office, with a three-dimensional scan of his unborn child clutched in his hands and no idea how to read it, she'd been his guide to all things involving pregnancy and she was a good one. A Bajoran woman from a huge fishing family, she'd been around children and pregnant women most of her life, and understood how terrible it was for him to be so far away.

His sister, of course, had told him to blow off the mission, take whatever demotion he got and be with the woman he loved. Sekaya didn't understand that letting his career go for Kathryn was the last thing Kathryn would want him to do. Starfleet and Kathryn were a package deal, and loving the latter meant sharing her with her work.

Ensign Martin was in the holodeck, but he graciously agreed to accept Chakotay's hour tomorrow in payment. Preia set up the computer, and it obediently created a facsimile of Kathryn. Her simple blue smock covered her shoulders and breasts, but left her stomach bare. The computer was programmed with her personality as well, but having her speak just made him miss her that much more.

"When was the last one?"

"Sixteen days ago."

"She looks bigger." He took a step forward, reaching for her belly. Her skin was warm, just as Kathryn's would be, and her skin was pale, even slightly transparent. He could trace the blood vessels beneath with his fingers.

"She is bigger. About a kilogram since last time." Preia circled the false Kathryn, studying her posture. "She's keeping in shape."

"Kathryn spends a lot of time with Seven. Seven takes her on walks, and swimming and other approved activities."

"Efficient."

"Always." Beneath his hand, the holographic representation of their baby shifted, pressing part of his or her body into his hand. Kathryn had sheepishly admitted to playing his letters over and over to her belly, so the baby would know his voice. When they could, they just talked to each other, about nothing over subspace until she was asleep and he was summoned back to work.

It wasn't the same as holding her, or being able to kiss their child through her belly, but it was something. It was as close as he would get before Starfleet recalled him and he finally had the chance to hold them both.

"When is she due?"

Preia took his hand and guided it over so he could feel one of the baby's feet. Staring at the imprint through Kathryn's stretched skin, he barely heard the answer to his question.

"April, maybe March, but I'm thinking April. If she's stubborn, the Prophets say the baby will be too."

Chakotay smirked. "Might be May then."

"She'll be all right. First babies are always a bit of an adventure because we don't know how the pelvis will behave, but everything couldn't look better." Preia rested her hand on his back, smiling warmly. "Really."

"We've been trying to come up with names."

Preia moved his hand again. "That's baby's head, feel how hard it is? You asked your father, right?"

"I did." He stopped, marvelling at the way the baby's head fit so perfectly into the palm of his hand, like it belonged there. "My father said Kathryn and I could talk and talk, but when the time is right, the name will choose us. The spirits will tell us."

"On Bajor we ask the Prophets. Sounds similar."

Chakotay kept his eyes down, drinking in everything about Kathryn's stomach. "The Prophets choose Preia?"

"The Prophets let it be known to the Vedeks that Preia was to be my name. Really isn't bad. My youngest sister had to be Suitijal."

"That doesn't sound too bad."

"It means 'little biscuit'."

Lifting his head as he laughed, Chakotay winced. "I'll take it off the list."

"The name will come."

"Right."

"Trust your spirits, Chakotay. They're looking after you. All three of you."  


* * *

"I'll need the historical records of the Grizzaleans, as well as their artistic and culinary tastes. If you could sort my correspondence and set out my notes for my morning meeting, that would be wonderful." Kathryn dropped her stack of PADDs into her case, and began the slow process of getting to her feet. Her belly grew heavier and more of a hazard each hour, and getting up now required she put her hands on the desk.

She could still do it, and coming into work took her mind off of all the things she missed about Chakotay.

Today however, her aide was looking at her with dismay.

"Ensign?"

"I can't, Admiral. With all due respect."

"You can't?"

"I can't. Admiral, I'm leaving tonight on a transport for Bajor. I haven't been home for the gratitude festival in the last three years, and I haven't been home to visit at all since I became your assistant. I don't mind working for you, and I understand that leave is difficult to come by, but I scheduled this trip around your parental leave, because I haven't seen my sisters in months and it's been longer than that for my parents, and my whole family gets together for the gratitude festival."

She took a breath, nearly in tears. "If you don't go on leave, I can't go, Admiral."

Staring at her in shock, Kathryn glanced at the stardate. She was meant to start her parental leave. Starfleet had given her the last few weeks of her pregnancy off, as well as two to six weeks to adjust to the baby. It was meant to start tomorrow she'd just…well, she didn't really want to go, did she? What was she going to do while she waited to have the baby? Sit around and watch old holovids?

Still, no matter how much she hated the idea of having nothing to do, she couldn't stand there and let the poor girl cry. Hjel was an excellent aide, she worked very hard and Kathryn certainly made her life more difficult.

"I had no idea it was so hard for you to go on leave, Ensign."

There were other aides, weren't there? Why would the scheduling of a vacation be so difficult?

Ensign Hjel sighed. "I can't entrust you to just anyone, Admiral. You're not the easiest to assist."

"Is that a polite way of saying I'm difficult?"

"Not difficult, just…a little intense sometimes. A replacement wouldn't get your coffee right, and you'd have to break her in now, when you're--"

"Not especially patient."

Kathryn settled in her chair, realising just how long it had been since she took any time off. Working kept her busy, and since Chakotay was light-years away, she wanted to be as busy as possible. If she hadn't have been working, no time would have passed at all. She'd still be nauseated and absolutely lost if she hadn't had work.

"I do have parental leave coming."

Ensign Hjel's smile was supernova bright. "Thank you, Admiral. Thank you."

"I'll need everything in order before you leave."

Hjel nodded, reordering the PADDs on Kathryn's desk. "It is, I just need you to stop working so it will stay that way, Admiral."

What choice did she have?   


* * *

"How long is your leave dear?" Gretchen asked over the table.

She'd been working on some kind of quilting project all afternoon, and Kathryn had been watching out of curiosity and nostalgia. Her mother had quilted when she was a child too, often taking up the whole table while Kathryn was trying to do math and catch up her on astronomy.

"Six weeks." Kathryn sighed and folded her arms over her swollen belly. The baby was heavy again, and seemed to be bigger still than yesterday. Six weeks of parental leave seemed like just enough time to swell to bursting. Of course, she didn't have that much pregnancy left. At some point, she'd have to deal with the fact that the baby was preparing to live independently from her body.

Somehow, the trying, exhausting, bone-wrenching weight of the baby lodged just over her pelvis, was headed down and out. She'd read about it. Made it through most of a holographic simulation before she'd been too nauseated to continue. In theory, Kathryn understood childbirth. If it were Phoebe, or, much more likely in the bizarre event of Phoebe reproducing, Phoebe's partner, she'd have no trouble being supportive. When it was herself, no matter what her mother or her doctor told her, it remained an unknown. She suspected it would until it was happening.

Putting that from her mind, she sighed and sank back into her book. It was interesting. One of the sprawling Betazoid romance novels that had absolutely no intrigue, which made it rather relaxing to read. Everyone understood everyone else's feelings and the plot of the book was about how those feelings developed and changed and how everyone around the protagonist's feelings changed with hers. It was a good deal like listening to someone's therapy session and having that someone not be her was a nice change.

Counsellors were all very concerned about how she was handling her separation, and the impending doom of trying to balance her career and a child. People had had babies before, and kept their careers. It would work out. There was daycare in the building next to Starfleet headquarters for a reason. Her mother had taken the time to stay home with her and Phoebe when they were very small, but teaching was a far different career than Starfleet. Professors had leaves of absence and sabbaticals. If Kathryn had to spend all day with a baby, even her own darling little baby, she'd probably go insane.

And that was all right. It had to be okay because the baby was on its- his- her- way and she'd have to make her life balance. Somehow. Perhaps Chakotay would give up _Voyager_. He'd hinted, of course. He wanted to be where she and the baby were, and though she found that incredibly appealing, she hated grounding him.

Kathryn had hated grounding herself to become an admiral, but it was necessary. She'd worn herself too thin in the Delta Quadrant; she needed to be away, removed a step or two from the people she protected.

Perhaps she needed to put more thought into Admiral Nakamura's proposal and consider _Deep Space 11_. It was nearly the outer rim, but that meant it would be interesting. Plenty of interstellar traffic, and a choice of her own vessel. Chakotay might get a little bored being the captain on call, though, there was a rich amount of cultural diversity and plenty of alien races dying to share their stories.

Would he like that? Would he be fulfilled? The last thing she wanted to end up doing was stealing him away from a ship and crew that he loved to serve as her second on a fairly dull space station where she'd be so busy with bureaucracy that he'd wonder if he was a single parent.

Sighing, she realised she'd gone through about five pages of novel without keeping track, and all the Betazoid names were hard to remember. Far more Xs and Zs than she was accustomed to and she kept getting the protagonist and her lover confused with the antagonist and her three lovers, because they'd switched back and forth a few times.

Betazed would be a lovely choice for a honeymoon. If they went that route. They hadn't discussed it, but marriage was about as difficult to discuss over the comm as pregnancy. Pregnancy had holofeedback and medical charts, so it was definitely more interesting.

"Your sister is joining us for dinner." Her mother had that look which suggested that she'd tried to make the announcement four or five times and Kathryn hadn't been listening.

"Great." Kathryn cast her mother a sincere smile. When Phoebe stopped joking about how big Kathryn was getting or what it was like to have a comm screen for a partner, she was interesting company.

"She said she needed to change transports on Luna so she ended up at the Rio De Janeiro transport hub, not the Paris one because it's always so crowded."

"Okay." Kathryn tilted her head, surprised at her sister's logic. Usually logic and Phoebe were not words she put in the same thought, but Phoebe had made a wise choice. Switching transports wouldn't take long and Rio was a far more pleasant hub.

Switching.

Phoebe had come in on the sector one-one-nine express. She would have landed in Paris, but she'd switched to Rio.

She could have swapped transports all the way back on Starbase Three, or on Risa. There were at least five places Kathryn could think of.

No Starfleet vessel was headed directly from Earth to _Voyager_ , but if she swapped…

She rolled out of her chair, something entirely without grace, but it got her on her feet.

"I need to make a call."

"Now?"

"I need to talk to Seven."

"Phoebe's going to be here in an hour for dinner."

Kathryn nodded, rubbing her hand along her belly as she thought. Seven would be able to plan a route and she wouldn't argue with the logic of what Kathryn was doing. Seven would understand without judging.

"Do you have enough for Seven as well?"

Her mother fixed her with a 'who do you think I am?' look. "Of course, dear. I'd never leave a guest wanting."

"Okay. I'm going to use the study."

"All right. Dinner's at nineteen hundred."

"Thanks."

Kathryn shut herself into the room that had been her father's study. Her mother's things covered the desk now, but there were still Starfleet computers. She needed those, even if they were a little old. She had a trip to plan, and some sort of reasoning to explain to her mother before she dragged Gretchen's first grandchild halfway across the galaxy.

She needed Chakotay, and he was out there. Maybe that would be reasoning enough. She didn't have anything else. Starships were safe, if for some reasons she went into labour before she made it to _Voyager_ , she'd be on a starship. There weren't many places safer than that to have a baby. Besides, the baby was waiting for Chakotay. She wasn't willing to acknowledge that there was a version of events where he wouldn't be there.

So it wouldn't happen. Being pregnant wasn't her choice, being separate from Chakotay was not want she wanted, and if she could wrest one thing from the universe, it was going to be where she had this baby. The universe would have to adapt.  


* * *

Once, while she and Tuvok had been eating on _Voyager_ with Chakotay, Paris, Kim and Torres, the Vulcan had remarked later that he occasionally wondered how emotional species found the time to ingest food at all. They spent so much time talking, that they barely had time to chew. The admiral suffered from a similar problem. Her conversations were of great importance to her, and she ate slowly.

Seven was partially through her dinner: mashed potatoes were something she was particularly fond of and Mrs. Janeway's were excellent, when the admiral and her mother started talking.

The conversation remained civil only briefly, then spiralled into a fully fledged argument.

"You can't have a baby on a starship."

"Women have babies on starships all the time! Starfleet has some of the best qualified doctors in the quadrant, and what were you just telling me last week? Giving birth is nothing to be afraid of, Kathryn, you'll be fine, _Kathryn_ \--"

The admiral's sarcastic emphasis on her own name had a bite to it, and across the table, Phoebe winced on her mother's behalf. She passed Seven the basket full of rolls and urged, silently, that Seven take one. Seven obliged, watching as Phoebe used her own to collect gravy from the edge of her plate. Apparently, this was comfort food and Seven was to be comforted by the high fat content and the textures of the food.

She didn't care much for the meat. It was well cooked and would have been considered very good by most who liked it. Gravy was more acceptable, she understood it was a product of the meat, which was a replicated terrestrial quadruped herbivore, but she found meat took excessive chewing. Vulcan cuisine was more to her liking. It was simple, chosen logically for its nutritional value and very sparsely spiced. However, as Earth food went, Gretchen Janeway's was acceptable.

Phoebe seemed to agree, and her plate emptied quickly, as did Seven's. Phoebe gestured towards the kitchen, picking up her plate and mouthing "dessert". Seven picked up her own empty plate, dodging the ongoing argument that traipsing off across the galaxy was not what Starfleet intended by maternity leave. She understood part of Gretchen's logic and she had been making an attempt not to eavesdrop, however, short of deactivating her aural implants, there was not much she could do to avoid it.

In the kitchen, Phoebe took her plate and set it into the replicator to be cleaned. To Seven's surprise, while the food disappeared, the plate remained.

"Mom has real plates, made somewhere in Europe, not replicated, and you have to put them in the replicator one at a time, and then put them away." Phoebe tossed a glance towards the sink and frowned. "Or you wash them."

"Washing them may be more efficient."

"It's slightly less sticky," Phoebe agreed, putting her and Seven's clean plates away. "And mom says that putting them in the replicator strips her china, a few atoms at a time."

Seven raised an eyebrow. That was unlikely.

Phoebe grinned: her smile was playful, even quirked, and she resembled the admiral in her best mood.

"I know. Mom just…well, she likes her things traditional." She started looking around the kitchen, peeking into cabinets, before she retrieved two small plates and advanced on the oven and stove combination. On top of the cooking elements, sat a pie in a glass pie pan.

Phoebe took the pie from there and brought it to the counter, wincing a little as the voices in the kitchen rose enough to be heard through the wall. "Traditional has its perks, like pie. You do like pie?"

Seven nodded once. "I enjoy the dessert. I am not as fond of cheesecake, as it is too rich. Pie is less filling."

"This is a bit filling, but you'll like it. Mom's is the best." Phoebe eyed the replicator and grinned again. "Want ice cream on it?"

"Ice cream?"

"Vanilla is good, chocolate is better, strawberry if you're feeling particularly adventurous."

"I am not fond of things that are adventurous."

Phoebe raised her eyebrows and nodded. "Vanilla it is."

She retrieved ice cream from the replicator and handed Seven pie with ice cream and a fork; again it was a real plate. Something that had not been replicated. Which was odd. Her aunt had many things that had not been replicated and only because she lived on a planet was that possible. Seven was not sure how she felt about that. She had sparse possessions and she enjoyed the freedom that gave her. Things needed to be moved, they needed space to be in, she saw no real point to them. Others liked them, but others liked many things she did not.

Poking her pie with her fork, Seven took a bite, catching some pie and ice cream. The pie was warm and sweet, pecan, of course, and the ice cream melted against her tongue. It was delicious, sweet enough to make her wish for a drink, but absolutely delicious.

Phoebe shared her thought. "Coffee? Tea?"

"I prefer tea."

Ordering something from the replicator Seven didn't recognise, Phoebe set a pot cup of tea in front of them on the counter and took down two delicate china cups from the cupboard. More non-replicated china.

It was difficult to see how Admiral Janeway, who barely seemed to have enough belongings to fill an apartment, and her mother might be related. The admiral had told Seven that things meant stability for some people. She'd smiled faintly and mentioned that one day, she might like to have enough things to quietly fill a house. Seven had doubted it would ever occur at the time.

"The tea has to steep." Phoebe pointed at the pot. "It's better than just replicating it done already. It's Betazoid, I think you'll like it. It's a big pot, but we might be here awhile."

"Is there no other way out of the house?"

Waving her fork in agreement, Phoebe inclined her head at the back door. "But it's March and it's wretchedly cold. We could sneak around, but we'd only managed to get into the living room, and there's not tea there. Or breakfast, should we need it."

"Will they be arguing that long?"

"Dad and I didn't keep records." Phoebe takes another bite of her pie and contemplates the idea as raised voices still echo on the other side of the wall. "Mom and Kathryn are too much alike. Strong-willed, no sense of compromise, fierce tempers, but good hearts. I mean, once one of those two likes you, you're in. She'll like you until the end."

She scratched her fork along the plate. "It's the same argument you know. Kathryn wants to do something, marry some guy, take some mission, have her baby halfway back to the Delta Sector-"

"It is a quadrant of space."

"Oh, I know." Phoebe's eyes twinkled. "Kathryn hates it when I get it wrong, so, I make it a point to get it wrong."

"You annoy her on purpose?"

"Absolutely."

Phoebe decided the tea was down and began to pour it.

'No siblings?"

"I do not understand."

"You don't have any siblings."

"I do not. I believe I have observed the behaviour in Commander Paris and Lt. Commander Kim."

"You prove you can annoy them; it means they love you."

Seven sniffed the aromatic steam from her tea. She had not had it before, but it was reminiscent of something tropical. Hopefully it was not as sweet as the pie.

"Your mother must love the admiral very much."

"She does!" Phoebe waved her fork triumphantly again. "The problem is that mom thinks love is taking care of people, keeping them safe from themselves, stability and all that nonsense. Kathryn thinks love is wild and heedless, and turning up at three am to take me out for coffee because she's missed me. Not that I mind, and you know, I even understand how she feels. It's Chakotay's baby, and if he's--"

She paused, turning to Seven. "Where is he?"

"On _Voyager_ , exploring the Yaris nebula. Which is in the Beta Quadrant."

"So far?"

"It is-" Seven stopped, humans did not appreciate exact distances. "Quite far."

"Will you get there before she goes into labour?"

Seven paused, fork halfway to her mouth. Admiral Janeway had not asked her to formally accompany her. It was possible, of course. Seven had only consultant faculty responsibilities, and she could easily continue to fulfil those from anywhere with a commlink. She was less than comfortable on a planet, and missed the freedom of space. She would not be against seeing more Starships and meeting more Starfleet officers. They were generally easier to converse with than the civilian population who saw Borg as tantamount to the Devil of old mythology.

Setting her fork down, bite uneaten, she studied Phoebe's face, looking for some clue into the admiral's plans. "You believe she will ask me to accompany her?"

"You're safe, responsible, organised. She'd ask me, but I'm only barely the first, definitely not the second, and only the third when it's really really important. Mom likes you."

"I am not well acquainted with your mother."

That was puzzling. Seven agreed that a companion might make the admiral's planned journey more pleasant, but it was not necessary, was it?

"Well you'll go?"

"I am not against such a journey."

"So, you'll go with, Kathryn will be safe, and then mom will get over it. Kathryn will stop feeling like she's under siege and stop yelling back. You'll pack and go on your great adventure."

"It is a twenty-six day trip, requiring we travel with seventeen different vessels."

Phoebe nearly choked on her tea. "Wow."

"The Yaris nebula is--"

"Far. Got it. Okay, she's crazy."

Seven took another bite of her pie, wanting to finish before the ice cream became liquid and swamped her plate. After she swallowed, she contemplated the admiral's state of mind.

"I believe she is simply determined to be with Captain Chakotay."

"Which is love."

"I believe so."

"Love is crazy, Seven. Love is the craziest thing out there." Phoebe paused, grinning mysteriously. "That's what makes it fun."  


* * *

"So, got a name yet?" Tom leaned casually over out of the chair that had been Chakotay's for seven years. He was an excellent first officer, calm, capable, incredibly good at relating the crew, but he remained far too involved in Chakotay's life. He knew him too well, a lot like a brother or a version of Sekaya that came along on his starship to mess up his reports and nag him about his long distance relationship.

Chakotay envied him. Tom had his family around him. He'd been with B'Elanna for the duration of her pregnancy, even most of the delivery. _Voyager_ 's arrival on Earth would be well into May, past the last part of Kathryn's window by at least two weeks. His child would be held by others before him. He envied them too. Kathryn's mother, her sister and Seven of Nine were all around her. His baby would know their voices more than his.

He tried to be calm, to be patient and focus on the mission.

Except, the Yaris nebula was not interesting enough to be more than a constant source of paperwork, which he did, staring over his work at the scans of the baby. It didn't seem real. He'd seen the holograms, even 'felt' the baby, but still, the baby was on the other side of the galaxy. It felt as surreal as when Kathryn had confessed she was pregnant.

So he boxed, more than usual. He even ended up taking most of Doctor Sahn's holodeck time, which she was happy to surrender. She had a superstitious fear of holodecks, since the safeties seemed only to exist to fail at inopportune moments. He suspected that was exaggerated, but he didn't argue. Tom and B'Elanna gave up part of their holodeck time too. Miral was too young to really appreciate it, and they had more fun with her in the cargo bay than in the holodeck. She liked running around, so, in cargo bay one, along the walls, there was a makeshift track, lined with sturdy cargo containers. She couldn't go anywhere, but she could toddle off on the little legs that grew bigger every day, and eventually return to her parents.

Who were both on the ship.

The need to be with Kathryn dogged on him, taunting him. There was nothing he could do, short of renouncing his commission. Letting go of _Voyager_ would take him off the rotation for command list, and he'd be stuck on some Starbase, assisting an admiral with even more paperwork and he'd lose B'Elanna, Tom, Harry and his family on _Voyager_.

Not that he could keep it forever. Kathryn was based on Earth, and the baby would most likely grow up there. He needed the good marks from finishing the Voyager mission to secure a position at the academy. Though the civilian sector would take him, that would be more anthropological history than first contact with alien species and ordinary university professors did not return to space when their children grew up.

So this was best for everyone.

Except that it had the kind of impatient waiting to it that drilled into the back of his skull. He reminded himself to pay attention to now and to let the future come as it would.

"She likes Evan."

"Evan's all right." Tom inclined his head up towards Harry. "Harry was telling me he likes Thomas."

Harry smirked. "I was actually. It's the kind of name that grows on you. Something that gets less abrasive the more times you say it."

Tom chuckled and winced appropriately. "What about Harry?"

"Perhaps, I'll put Harriet on the list for a girl."

"Thanks, Captain. Why not Thomasina too?"

"Almasina was a woman I knew in my village growing up. She might be amused by that."

"Any naming traditions you have to follow?"

Chakotay tilted his head, looking up towards Harry. "I'm supposed to let the baby's spirit guide tell mine what to chose."

"So the baby's spirit guide has been slacking off?" Tom handed across the PADD with the duty roster.

"Perhaps." He scanned over the duty roster, reading it with a minimum of attention. Maybe he should listen to B'Elanna and go hit something. Again.

Chakotay paused, struck by something in a middle paragraph. "Captain Proton will have the third watch?"

Tom winked. "Would you believe it? He took time from his busy schedule of stopping evil just to stop by and take the last watch on _Voyager_."

Though he chuckled with Tom and appreciated the attempt to make him laugh, thinking of his first officer's old holoprogramme only made him think of Kathryn, and how wonderful she'd looked in her costume as queen of the spider people. Did Arachnia have an heir to the throne? Would they play that game with their baby some day?

Playing with the baby was a softer, sweeter thought than missing Kathryn, so he set his mind to that and tried to work.

* * *

The first few times she brought Miral over to Chakotay's quarters, she felt like the captain- the admiral- was going to appear at any moment. When Janeway didn't appear, she relaxed into it, but she appreciated how strange it must have been for Chakotay to be where she had been, and never have her there.

Miral happily splashed in the bathtub, smashing a toy shuttle into a toy boat that had existed centuries before the shuttle, and then chasing off to the far corner after a floating duck and a dinosaur. She was easier to manage in the bathtub. She was less than amused by the sonic shower, and finding ways to hold her still short of letting her scream while the shower did its work, involved having her asleep or someone else to amuse her. The bathtub on the other hand, was a confined space, it had numerous floating toys and it was comfortable.

She could sit on the edge and watch her, which was a lot better than taking a baby fist to the face when Miral screamed her discontent with the shower.

"I wasn't aware ducks had a taste for space travel."

B'Elanna lifted a hand to wave and welcomed Chakotay into his own bathroom. Miral had the little blue duck on top of the shuttle, and they zoomed happily around, accompanied by sound effects.

"This one apparently does. It's going where no duck has gone before."

After its flight, the duck flew out of the tub and narrowly missed B'Elanna, landing at Chakotay's feet. Retrieving it and wiping it on a towel, he added it back into the bath.

"It certainly is."

Miral didn't acknowledge him. She didn't seem to care much who was around her, as long as at least one of the group she liked was. She was fond of Harry, Chakotay and Preia. The CMO was remarkably good with children, coming from a huge family must have made it easier to deal with kids. B'Elanna had absolutely no experience with kids, and she was making up the parent thing as she went.

Luckily Tom was too, and that made it a little more balanced. For all the screaming, pulling, punching and yelling that went with a Klingon toddler, Miral was pretty easy. She slept well, she listened some of the time and she was generally happy. Like now. She seemed entirely happy to be gnawing on the adventurous duck's head at the moment.

"Anything from the admiral?"

Chakotay took off his jacket and settled down on the floor, so he looked up at her, but was enough out of the way to stay mostly dry.

"She's on leave now."

"I bet that went over well."

"There were tears." Chakotay grinned a little, pushing aside the regret that was etched into his face. "Her aide apparently has not had leave in some time."

"That poor ensign." B'Elanna returned his smile, laughing a little. "I did think it had been her for a moment. Desperate not to leave work undone."

"I think she would have kept working until active labour if it were up to her."

Another bittersweet smile, and she ached for him. Not having Tom around for her entire pregnancy would have made the whole thing that much closer to claustrophobic, annoying and frustrating. Still, Chakotay was using the right terms for things, and he'd obviously done his homework. B'Elanna hadn't really known what active labour was until she was in it, ready to rip the Doctor's programme out of the computer with her bare hands, if necessary.

It was hard to picture the admiral in that place. Admiral Janeway had been hurt rarely, sick even less and her pain tolerance was enough that B'Elanna envied it, and she worked with broken ribs. She could handle labour, B'Elanna had no doubt of that, but if she wanted Chakotay, it would hurt not having him there almost as much as labour itself.

Hopefully it would be distracting enough. She'd stopped noticing everything after a while and sunk into some kind of place where it was just her body and the baby, and even the Doctor didn't register much. From what she'd heard from Seven of Nine, who was better at keeping anyone informed of how the admiral was doing than the admiral herself, Admiral Janeway was paying attention to what her midwife said, but in the distracted way she'd paid attention to repair schedules that frustrated her or listening to the Doctor when she had better things to do.

Seven was pleased with the way she handled herself, and content that the admiral was in good health, but mentally and emotionally, there was a distance between the admiral and her baby. It was particularly hard to have a child without knowing where the relationship that child was coming in to actually was, and she wasn't sure where Chakotay and the admiral were headed. Maybe they didn't know.

There was something there, something Chakotay had trouble explaining, even though he was usually seemed certain that he and the admiral would end up together, given the chance to actually have a relationship while in the same place and not under extreme circumstances. Maybe they didn't know how to be together. They hadn't had much luck with relationships, and a seven year stretch of unfulfilled yearning had to be hard to turn into a relationship.

Hell, B'Elanna didn't think she would have even had the patience for a few years of what Janeway and Chakotay had put themselves through.

"Want me to break the ship?"

Chakotay's pensive look faded away and he turned to her in confusion. "Pardon?"

"I could break something, force us back early. You could catch the first shuttle out of Proxima Station and--"

Patting her shoulder with a firm hand, he shook his head. "No, but thank you for offering."

"I could make it look really convincing."

Miral splashed over and offered a boat to Chakotay, babbling seriously as if she were part of the conversation. He took the boat and held it on the edge, in case she wanted it back.

"I'm sure you could."

"We only have one Doppler array in the sensors. If that were to suffer a mechanical failure--"

He shook his head, laughing as he threatened her with the boat. "If anything breaks, even if we hit a meteor shower, now I'm going to wonder."

It might have been better to be suspicious and have Janeway than to be here, without suspicion, and not. B'Elanna smiled back at him, noticing again how good he was with her daughter.

"It's just a thought."

"It's a nice thought."

She smirked. "I do have them occasionally, no matter what Tom says."

When he laughed and it crept into his eyes, she knew she was making progress.


	4. Chapter 4

Admiral Janeway had not packed efficiently when they had left Earth. She'd had trouble meeting Seven's gaze, and thrown clothing haphazardly into a suitcase. It had been tense with Mrs. Janeway, but Phoebe had been cheerful. Apparently, she was a romantic. If Admiral Janeway wanted to go across the galaxy and find Captain Chakotay, this was romantic.

Chakotay was romantic. Seven remembered that about him from the short time that they had dated. He liked dinners and flowers: these things were romantic.

From what she knew of Admiral Janeway, she was not romantic, at least not in the traditional sense. Her conversations with Chakotay had become shorter lately, and though she blamed being tired, or the constant shift in time as they moved from one ship to a starbase to another ship, Seven wondered if it meant anything. She wondered many things about the admiral's relationship with Chakotay that she had not considered important before.

If Chakotay had feelings for Admiral Janeway, why had he not acted on them earlier? Was it the admiral's decision to stay apart? Did she want a relationship? She had not wanted to be pregnant, perhaps she felt forced, or trapped in the idea that she had to be in a partnership: a collective of two people that was part of the greater collective of society.

Seven had not been ready for that when Chakotay had presented the idea. It was not marriage, not even an engagement that had made her realise she was in the wrong role. She was too unformed to commit to being the other half of a partnership. She did not know who she was in the entirety, and the idea of sex, real sex that was not part of Unimatrix Zero, without her memories of that to tell her what to do, had been too much. She had no desire for that, not with Chakotay, and thus could not accept being partnered with him.

She would explore the idea of sex later, at another time. Perhaps with someone who had a smile like Phoebe's. There was something intriguing about a so called 'wicked grin'.

Of course, if she had been involved in sexual intercourse, she would not have become pregnant. She was very careful with her body.

Admiral Janeway was rather careless with hers. Other things were continually more important, and Seven suspected that was why she'd been far enough behind on her inhibitors that they'd failed. Now she was reasonably cautious, because she carried another life and that act was more difficult than Seven had realised.

She had been around Admiral Janeway almost constantly for the last three months. Her schedule was forgiving and Seven wanted to be available if Admiral Janeway had required anything. Janeway had been available to her, even in the middle of the night, while Seven was learning to be human. Caring for others was part of being human that Seven was more than happy to embrace. Janeway did not make that easy. She argued about the change in her exercise routines, and she had kept playing velocity until her balance was off enough from the extra weight that her aim was changed.

When they spent more time swimming, Seven had discovered that the problem with giving up velocity was that swimming involved speaking. They had time to talk while they changed, and in the pool. There was ample time to talk when she accompanied Janeway to yoga classes and antenatal appointments. Occasionally Gretchen Janeway had taken her place, but there was some sort of disconnect between them, and while that grew, Seven had been somewhere she was not accustomed to being.

Now that experience was even more intense. She frequently was asked to share quarters with Janeway because the vessels they traveled on were science vessels, or small, or did not have the extra space. She did not mind the close quarters, when she was Borg, nothing had been her own. She did worry that Janeway minded never being alone.

Janeway did not complain about that, nor did she complain about what had been the cause of the long, very drawn out fight with her mother that had led to terse conversations over subspace. She spent more time talking to Phoebe than her mother, and her conversations with her sister were less topical. They talked about Phoebe's relationship, and what Phoebe was doing. They did not talk about the impending delivery of the baby and what Admiral Janeway and Chakotay were about to do.

One night, on the _USS Wellington_ when Seven thought Janeway was asleep in the bed next to her, Janeway rolled to face her, something that involved moving her hips, and then the rest of her legs, and Seven heard the tiny inhale of breath that came from acknowledging her sore lumbar vertebrae.

"Seven?"

"I am awake."

Janeway for some reason found that humorous and smiled wearily. "I thought so. It is hard to tell."

"I am still new to sleeping. I still find it strange."

Technically, Seen did not sleep, as a human did, she went into a start of dormancy that allowed her nanites to regenerate her body. Putting the microscopic machines in shifts had given her a human-like cycle, but she had been told she did not move or snore, as a human did.

"Shutting down completely and having nothing wake you?" Janeway was still amused, and her smile was wistful now. "That would be strange."

"The baby is bothering you?"

"She's still new to sleeping." The Admiral winced, and shut her eyes. "That or she thinks she's on gamma shift."

"Are you tired?"

"I'm always tired."

Seven watched her smirk and realised she needed to rephrase the question.

"Shall I engage you in conversation?"

Janeway's smile had a hint of gratitude. "I'd appreciate it."

Running her head through the possible conversation topics, Seven settled on a simple one that confused her. "Phoebe wishes to set me up on a 'blind date'."

"She chooses very attractive people." Janeway reached over and patted the back of Seven's hand, where it lay on the bed. "It could be fun. You can't ever tell her I told you this, but…she has a skill when it comes to picking people out. "

The conversation continued far into the night, and by the end, Seven had agreed to go to dinner with the friend of Phoebe's girlfriend. She did not know why dating a Betazoid would be easier than dating a human, she did not understand her emotions, having someone else know them would not assist her.

However, it made Janeway smile when Seven agreed. She was exhausted, and it was so late that they both woke with difficulty when it was time to move to the next ship. Even so, Janeway packed better that morning than she had the morning before. She seemed happier. Seven wondered if that was the beginning of a trend, and kept track.

She acquiesced and let Seven pack when they left Starbase One Eight Two because her feet hurt. Seven packed everything with optimum efficiency and was relieved Janeway had admitted her physical impairment. Seven found a way to remind her to write to Torres and Paris, which always made her smile, and Janeway packed herself, smiling when they left the _USS Newcastle_. Some combination of a letter from her mother that made her angry and a letter from Chakotay that made her pace almost left her packing completely forgotten when they left the _USS Perth_.

Three vessels and two starbases later, Seven had established the pattern. Janeway was desperately upset with her mother, and afraid of Chakotay. She was not 'willing to bet it all' that she was right, but she knew the stiffening of posture and the tightening of the face that came from fear. She had a responsibility to intervene, in some fashion, because Janeway would take care of her. Janeway had always taken care of her, even at the risk of her own life.

Running her fingers along the slender metatarsals in Janeway's foot, Seven kept her eyes down. Looking up might be confrontational, she wanted to be pleasant.

"You have not spoken to your mother today."

Janeway wriggled her toes but did not move to prevent Seven from continuing to massage her feet. Seven had been careful, she knew her feet hurt too much to risk letting go of that.

"She's not in a talkative mood."

"You are fighting."

"Seven--"

Instead of replying, Seven sank her strong fingers into the flesh of Janeway's ankle and drew a hiss of relief. "I believe you will feel better if you discuss it."

Janeway blinked rapidly. "It's not easy--"

"I will not place judgement."

"I know that Seven and I do appreciate--"

"If you tell me, you will sleep better."

Janeway rested her hand on her cheek, then nodded, blinking again, but her tears still escaped her control. She did not like that at all and her face tightened before she spoke.

"I've disappointed her."

"I do not see how that would be possible."

Quirking a corner of her mouth upwards, Janeway half-smiled as she wiped her tears angrily away. "I seem to have a talent for the impossible."

Seven continued massaging her feet, trading off the one in her lap. She did not expect the conversation to continue because Janeway did not continue talking after she began to cry. Whatever emotions lay behind her tears were too personal to address. When this time, Janeway spoke through her tears, Seven lost her rhythm and looked up from what she was doing.

"I don't want to be a parent."

Seven faltered. She did not know how to respond to this line of reasoning. "You had the option to terminate your pregnancy."

Janeway nodded once, then covered her mouth with her clenched fist while she took a breath. "I couldn't."

There was something so final in that thought, Seven did not pursue it further. She worked her hands along Janeway's ankle, paying particular attention to the tendons surrounding the joint.

"Then you considered giving the baby up for adoption?"

Another nod; this one weaker. "I could give her to Chakotay, and let him raise her how he sees fit. I think he might understand, some day."

"Both of these choices are responsible ideas. Your mother would support either of them if they were what you wanted and thought was most prudent."

Though logical, that idea did nothing to calm Janeway, and Seven faced the unusual sensation of heat in her stomach and a tightening of her throat. She felt pain at the admiral's obvious suffering. She'd experienced empathy before, and thought it a useful survival mechanism, but found it useless to her. She did not alleviate the pain of others. It was not her purpose, yet, Janeway needed her to talk to her: to listen without judging.

"I'm pursuing the imprudent."

Seven moved to the metatarsals and the toes of Janeway's foot.

"Please elaborate."

"I know I love Chakotay. I know he'll be an excellent father, and I trust him to raise our child." That came easily, and Janeway was able to smile. "I'm not sure--" there her voice broke, cracking over unacknowledged feeling.

Seven's throat tightened further, as if she too would have trouble speaking.

Janeway swallowed, then finished, "I'm not sure if I'm in love with him. He's been the one thing I couldn't have. The man who was the closest to me and the furthest away for more years than I've ever been able to date anyone else, let alone be on the other side of a wall. It's like we lived together, for seven years and I never found a way to admit how I felt. I don't even know how I felt. I know he was talking about how he wasn't with you and I wasn't with anyone, then we kissed and talked about Venice and then she--" She rested both hands on her belly, suddenly seeming far smaller than she had ever been.

"Then she comes along when I least expect it and everything's different. There's no series of dates to see if we can be more than very close friends, there's no second time when neither of us has to worry about leaving: it's him and I and a baby neither of us every intended to exist."

"Feelings that a child is unwelcome are not uncommon." Seven had read that in the material provided by the midwife. Janeway obviously, though unsurprisingly, had not. "Children greatly alter the parameters of their parents' existence."

"I liked the parameters I had."

Seven finished with her foot and rested her hands across Janeway's ankles as her feet lay in her lap.

"Which were?"

"What?"

"How did you define the parameters of your relationship before your discovery that you were pregnant?"

Janeway leaned her head back, staring helplessly up at the ceiling. "Friends who'd taken a step? Friends who'd made a mistake? Friends who had absolutely no idea what they were doing."

"And you cannot be that with a child?"

"I don't know if I can be anything with a child."

Something in her voice stung Seven, as if she'd experienced physical pain. She reached up and took the admiral's hand into her own, holding it securely.

"I do not remember much of my mother, and I am unable to say that my recollections are enough to build a complete understanding of a maternal relationship. You have been as a mother to me. You guided me, instilled in me the ways of your world, cared for me when I was functioning less than optimally, rescued me from the Borg, and taught me that being human is an aspiration that was within my reach, yet ever evolving so that I must to seek perfection. I am confident in your ability to provide the same for your child. In fact, I believe she will be very fortunate to have the experience and protection of your affection."

During the long pause that followed, Seven was certain she had said something wrong; that she'd offended Janeway by comparing her in error to a mother she did not remember. To her great surprise, Janeway sat up, took both of her hands and held them so tightly that Seven thought she might have been in pain.

Janeway attempted to speak, but that failed her, and to Seven's great surprise, she dragged her close and hugged her as tightly as the swell of her belly would allow. They remained like that for quite some time while Janeway shed the last of her tears and Seven's ocular implants shared a similar malfunction.   


* * *

"We have sensor contact with _Voyager_."

"Thank you, Lieutenant, I'll be in the transport room. Please pass my regards to Captain Nulgranis."

Kathryn tapped her comm badge off and glanced down at her bag. She'd been alternating between the same three outfits, the grey, the blue and the deep purple. It didn't make sense to bring more, not when she could replicate something else on _Voyager_. She'd spent time wearing less. There had been parts of her time as captain when she'd worn the same uniform so long that it had worn through along the sleeves, or along one of the seams. None of her clothes now were in that kind of danger.

The baby, Chakotay's baby, was quiet, as if she understood the gravity of the what was about to happen. Perhaps she was asleep, she had been awake most of the night, twisting and stretching the confines of Kathryn's body. There couldn't be much space left. Kathryn's navel pointed outward, and the stretched skin of her belly bore silvery lines, indistinct, like an undocumented nebula.

She'd been held hostage several times in her life, external forces had kept her contained, told her when to eat, when to sleep: this was the first time she'd been held hostage from the inside. Instead of being stronger, an overwhelming force like the Borg or the Cardassians, her captor was fragile: a life unable to exist without her protection, yet full of demands. She had to eat when the baby wanted. She couldn't sleep unless the baby slept, and coffee, which had sustained her for so many years, alternately made her nauseated or sent her into waves of heartburn. Not that it stopped her from drinking it, or resenting the baby and her own body for taking that last refuge as well.

Seven stood at the doorway, serene as usual. Her hair was down, something Alynna, of all people, had suggested to her, and it made her look so human.

"You know Seven, every time we've board a new ship, I think half of it becomes jealous that I'm with you." Kathryn winked at her, trying to keep the conversation light.

Contemplating the thought, Seven tilted her head. "If you'd be more comfortable, I could announce that I am not your romantic partner."

"Oh I don't mind. It probably keeps the crew from beating down your door."

"I am not interested in a sexual relationship at this time."

"Haven't met the right man or maybe the right woman?"

"I am waiting to see if I feel an electrical connection. A spark. I believe that is traditional."

"That's it, no more talking to my sister."

Kathryn reached for her bag, but Seven took it from her hands.

"I believe you will want your hands free when we meet Captain Chakotay."

That pause happened again. Seven's eyes flashed with pain.

"Admiral, I wish to apologise."

Waving her off, Kathryn winced and shifted her weight. When she favoured her left hip, the right one inevitably ached by the end of the day. It would be good to have it all over with, to be paroled from pregnancy to the physically easier tasks of feeding and changing a baby.

"There's no need, Seven. I should be apologising to you for monopolising your time."

"I am pleased to assist. It was different than teaching at the academy. I am glad we have had time to talk. There is one more thing I wish to say."

Kathryn folded her hands over her belly, trying not to visibly brace herself. "Go ahead."

"I interfered with your chance to be with Chakotay on _Voyager_. Please understand I was unaware of your feelings for him. If I had not pursued him, you may have come together sooner, perhaps with enough time to plan for a child you both wanted."

"Seven." Swallowing hard, Kathryn reached for the younger woman's chin. "Chakotay and I were not together on _Voyager_ because I didn't want us to be together. Nothing you did, or could have done, came between a potential relationship that Chakotay and I meant to have. We made a choice not to be together, and everything that came after that for us was based on that choice. I don't want you to feel bad because you were with Chakotay. I'd like you to think of it as a learning experience. I'm sure he'd ask that you see it that way."

"My actions contributed to your estrangement."

"No, no, no." Kathryn dropped her hand to Seven's shoulder, rubbing it warmly. "My actions created any estrangement that exists. I choose to put my feelings aside, and asked him to do the same while we were on the ship. I choose not to pursue anything with him and kept him away. I- I didn't know what I wanted, or how to approach it. Relationships are very difficult for me."

"Yet you will pursue one now?"

"Maybe we'll make the attempt, or we won't. We'll make sure the baby is loved and cared for and we'll do our best to decide what we want. Hopefully it's the same thing."

Seven raised her hand, slowly reaching for Kathryn's hand and holding it tightly. She was becoming more human each day. Five years ago, Kathryn never would have thought it possible to care so much for someone who had been thrust so inexplicably into her life. Perhaps that was the point: what she was meant to be getting out of this. Seven hadn't asked to be reborn into humanity, but she had, and she'd come of age on _Voyager_ , with Kathryn's family as her own. As much as Seven had been hers, this baby was even more so.

Kathryn straightened up, smiled once more at Seven before she relaxed, letting her fears be forgotten for now.

"Come on, let's go give Chakotay one hell of a surprise."   


* * *

"The _Rhea_ is hailing us, Captain." Harry's report had a hint of curiosity. The _Rhea_ was simply passing through on her way out into deeper space. Perhaps Captain Nulgranis just wanted a last friendly chat before she led her crew on their mission. They'd be out longer than _Voyager_ had been.

He sighed, trying not to wish again that he had another letter from Kathryn instead of a friendly chat with another captain. For some reason, all of her messages had been short lately. When pressed, Seven had offered that she was tired, and that talking too long made her sad. Putting the absent out of the heart did sometimes make it easier to cope with loss, even a temporary one, and he couldn't blame her, even though the less she wrote, the more their separation tore at him.

Of course it would be difficult. Their relationship was barely a few hours older than their baby, and even the years of friendship and uncertain romance they'd built, might not be the proper foundation for a romance relationship. Could they go from friends to lovers to parents and maintain their connection? What state was that connection in after months of letters and late night subspace conversations? What was she doing on her maternity leave that left her surrounded by space? Had she moved up the lunar colonies to see the stars? Wouldn't she have told him if she'd moved out of her apartment? Was she simply restless?

Captain Nulgranis' dark face filled the screen, her teeth bright white as she smiled.

"Captain Chakotay, you are looking well."

"The middle of nowhere suits me, Captain. I hope it will be pleasant for you."

"You know us, Chakotay. We old warhorses who do not like diplomatic negotiations and get sent out to the fringes of space, where we can't offend comets and nebulae."

"Sounds slightly familiar."

"Headed back soon?"

"A few weeks. We're finally starting to run out of nebula."

Nulgranis grinned again, her dark eyes full of amusement. "You found a beauty. We will work hard to find something prettier. Then you will owe me a drink."

"Seems fair. Take care out there. It'll be hard to beat me if you don't come back in one piece."

"That is a very good idea. I will try to keep that in mind."

"Good luck."

"And also to you, Chakotay. Though, it seems you will not need it. Nulgranis out."

She vanished from the screen. Her last smile had been enigmatic, something full of mystery. He was ready to write it off, to call it nothing, but Harry looked up in surprise.

"Captain, your presence is requested in transporter room one."

Chakotay left his chair immediately. "Requested? There's no crew coming aboard. No transfers, no--"

Harry's smile could not possibly have been brighter, or full of more surprise. "Captain, the request is from Admiral Janeway-"

"Mr. Paris--"

"Got it." Tom grinned from his seat. "Go get her, Captain."

His journey down to the transporter room was one without time. He passed Seven and B'Elanna in the corridor with barely a nod to either of them. Ensign Carritinelli, the transporter officer on duty, nodded to him, standing at attention at the door.

"Captain."

The door hissed open, letting him in and there she was. Kathryn stood there, hands crossed over the swollen belly that held their child. Her hair had grown longer, fuller with her changing hormones, and it fell loose on her shoulders. He wanted to run his hands through it, to tangle them up and hold her close with no plans of letting go.

She studied him silently, smiling that crooked little smile she had when she'd pulled off an impossible plan.

"Turns out no one cares where you take your parental leave."

"You came all the way out here from Earth? That must have taken-"

"Twenty-seven days, twenty-three hours and some number of minutes I've forgotten since Seven told me."

"Kathryn--"

She didn't even have time to move her hands before he embraced her, holding her close and relishing the feeling of her body against his. She was warmer than the hologram, and she wrapped herself around him in turn, holding him just as fiercely as he held her.

When he let her go, wanting to look at her and seal her into his memory, Kathryn kissed his cheek, still smiling with pride.

"I missed you too."  


* * *

After a group dinner, a medical exam, and hundreds of questions, Kathryn had been the centre of attention for longer than she had any interest in being. She missed her crew, and it was so lovely to see Tom, B'Elanna, Miral and Harry again.

Chakotay's new chief medical officer had joined them, and Kathryn found her much like her letters. Preia was efficient, yet empathetic, kind and just odd enough with her dichotomy of faith and scientific devotion to be interesting. She'd easily engaged in conversation with Seven, which endeared her further. Kathryn had been comfortable enough with the midwives in San Francisco. Starfleet had an excellent medical staff, and she would have been comfortable delivering there. Liking Chakotay's new doctor made Voyager that much more appealing

Chakotay had obviously become quite close to his new doctor, and if he respected her, she would. His sense of people was usually very good, and often better than her own. It was strange not to have the holographic doctor, and stranger still that it was Chakotay ship now, not hers, yet being on _Voyager_ 's deck again had a sense of home she'd been missing on Earth. It was right that the baby would be born here. The events leading to her conception had begun out among the stars, and Kathryn could think of no better place to begin her life.

When the whirlwind had settled, and Seven had been taken away by the other officers to see Tom's new holodeck program, and tell them all about what life was like on Earth, Chakotay stood from the table in the mess hall, offered her his hands and led Kathryn away.

She'd nearly asked Tom for her own quarters, not wanting to rush things between her and Chakotay more than biology already was. She'd had the request on the tip of her tongue when Chakotay joked about how it was a good thing his room was neat.

She was going home with him. After nine months away from him, Kathryn was back, exactly where she'd been when she'd gotten herself into this mess, riding a turbolift with Chakotay's hand sending shivers of electricity though her back. Now that she was pregnant, even being mildly aroused made her belly twitch and threaten to contract. Those contractions weren't unpleasant, but they were new. Lots of things were new. The way her breasts ached when anything touched them or when nothing touched them, and the way the baby was heavy down in her hips, as if all of her baby's weight was resting there, just above her pubic bone.

He'd missed the part of her pregnancy were the baby had started to move, and only experienced through a hologram what it was like to feel the baby kick or twist. Now that the baby was rubbing out of space, there was little for Chakotay to feel at all. The baby's kicks were limited to the space of her uterus, and that seemed to be shrinking further every day.

"Would you like some tea?"

"Thank you." She took a seat on his sofa, noticing that her bag had already made it to his quarters.

"You travel light."

"Didn't think I'd need much. I'm going to need new clothing after the baby comes anyway."

He returned from the replicator, two cups of tea in his hands. Chakotay set them down and sat next to her, eyes only for her.

"And you're all right?"

"I'm fine."

He reached for her belly tentatively and she took his hand to guide it.

"There's a foot up here today, next to my lung."

Chakotay chuckled sympathetically, rubbing his fingers against her belly. "Does that hurt?"

"Sometimes." She sat back, letting him feel around her belly, making contact with his child. "It's not bad now that baby's running out of space. He can't get as much momentum as he did."

"You're beautiful pregnant."

"I'm round in new places, soft in others and generally pudgy in all the wrong ones."

Shaking his head in disbelief, he kissed her cheek, then took the initiative to kiss her lips. "You're beautiful, Kathryn. You always are."

"I think you're biased."

"You're probably right."

He kissed her again, exploring her mouth with his tongue, just as his hands had explored her belly. The doctor, Preia, had been sweet even to whisper that they could have all the sex they wanted, just to stop if anything became uncomfortable. When she'd been thoughtful enough to mention, with a hint of colour in her face, that if intercourse didn't work there were always other methods, Kathryn had decided she liked that Bajoran doctor very much.

They needed to talk, but somehow they both knew they'd talked already. They'd been talking for more than eight years, and everything left between them, didn't need to be said aloud. As she kissed him back, she brought his hands to the fastenings on her shirt. Chakotay's fingers were quick, and they knew how to undress her. He'd been undressing her with his eyes since she'd arrived and she was as hungry for him as she had been for dinner.

Her shirt fell away, leaving only the thin silky vest beneath and the bra that held her too-full breasts. He was gentle with that, drawing her to her feet, and slipping her out of her camisole. His uniform top was off as they headed for the bedroom, and she sat down on the bed, kissing him as she undid his trousers. She was too pregnant to spread out on the bed and take him between her thighs, but they were adaptable. They hadn't waited all this time to lose to the limitations of position. He slid off her socks and boots, letting her bare feet sink into the carpet.

With her down to her bra, he took the time to explore her skin, finding the new silver lines she hated in the flesh, and the purple marks the expansion of her belly had left on her skin. Chakotay worked his way up to her breasts, kissing the soft white flesh exposed by her bra as he reached for the clasp. The rounded, too sensitive flesh of her breasts ached anew as he massaged them, freeing them gently from her bra and taking them into his hands instead. She gasped simply from the touch of his hands to her nipples, and Kathryn groaned when he lowered his mouth.

Keeping a hand on her breast, he lowered his other hand to her thigh, slipping it up until she sighed desperately as her stroked her. Squirming towards his hand, she wriggled up further on the bed. With Chakotay's help, she stripped off her trousers, and her panties, far from sexy, grey ones that rode high on her belly, joined them on the floor. He continued working his way up, teasing her labia until it was wet and aching. His feather touch was maddening, sending her into a spiral of desire and the need to be with him.

His arousal was obvious in the prominent bulge of his shorts. Sitting up with his hand still on her breast, Kathryn eased down his clothing, exposing his impatient erection. She licked her fingers, dancing them across the tip so that his breathing sped, falling into the same desperate gasping as her own. She ran her hand over him, teasing him further erect. He tore her hand away, kissing her with his tongue deep in her mouth. She slid backward on the bed, turning over onto her hands and knees. Chakotay followed her up. Kissing down her spine, he reached around and massaged her breasts, drawing little gasps each time one of her nipples brushed against his hand or wrist.

One hand trailed down across her swollen stomach, heading down across the curve of her belly and slipping back between her legs. She was wetter now, slick and swollen with arousal, and she could feel the heat of his erect penis against the back of her thigh. He ran his fingers over her clit, circling it slowly. Kathryn rocked back, pressing up against him. Chakotay sank his fingers into her, opening her up for himself. The hot tip of his penis danced across her aching sex before he joined them, slipping deep inside her. Her swollen flesh accommodated him easily, and his sigh of contentment radiated through her.

He kissed her back, making sure she was all right before his hips canted towards her, sending him deeper. Groaning in pleasure, she leaned back into him, letting him find an angle and a rhythm. Between his hands and the full, aching stretch of him within her, her body vibrated with the pleasure of it. It had been months since she'd had sex, an eternity since she'd had him last inside of her, yet her body welcomed him, brought him in because he belonged there.

Chakotay found a gentle rhythm, then, as she writhed up and back to meet his thrusts, they sped up together. His breath grew quick, then ragged. Her own came in gasps and pants. Orgasm, like a long forgotten sensation, crept over her before she realised how far it had come. Breathless and sated, she dug her sweaty hands into the sheets and cried out down into the bed.

He took his fingers from her clit, left her breasts alone and held her hips as he followed her over the brink. The wetness of his body spilled into her and he collapsed next to her, rolling her to her side and holding her tight against his chest.

The lingering pleasure of her orgasm sang through her, tightening down through her body, and turning her belly to a hard ball of flesh, wrapped tight around the baby. Chakotay's arm lay comfortably over her, keeping both of them safe.

They lay there, entwined and damp with sweat as their breathing slowly returned to normal. He rested his mouth on the back of her neck, kissing her again. Everything she had to say, all her doubts, could wait for morning. Now, with him there was only peace and that needed no words or plans for the future. It simply was, and that was more than enough.


	5. Chapter 5

For six days, _Voyager_ was a dream world. Kathryn ate breakfast with Chakotay, snuck coffee as soon as he went to the bridge, and let her life be calm in that way it had been on the best days in the Delta Quadrant. Seven had volunteered to help with the last of the survey of the Yaris nebula, and somehow, she was even getting along with B'Elanna as the work progressed. Harry had a whole new level of responsibility as security chief and she enjoyed seeing him comfortable in power. Tom was everywhere, both busy and charming, and Chakotay's ship echoed the captain's dedication to duty. It ran well, and since the captain was there, Kathryn found herself in the foreign position of having nothing to do.

She didn't even have bureaucratic nonsense or useless paperwork to fill out. Kathryn hated not being busy, but somehow she'd survived a few days. She observed without providing suggestions unless asked. She assisted Seven's analysis of the traces of dark matter found in the depths of the nebula. Seven didn't need her, and B'Elanna didn't need her to supervise her tests on the engines or the experiments with the shield grid. She was the extraneous member, an off-duty admiral with as much extra time on her hands as she had extra waistline.

Kathryn had been restless on Earth, overwhelmed with everything she couldn't sort out on her own. Maybe she'd needed to be back in space, or perhaps she'd needed Chakotay to be real instead of a voice on the other side of subspace. For all she worried that years of denied feelings and residual attraction wasn't weren’t enough to build a relationship, their relationship seemed to have delivered itself. They fit, melded together and somehow, all they'd needed was to stop fighting to fit together as if drawn by gravity.

For the first time in either of their lives since they'd met, they allowed themselves to be happy, and they were. Even as she'd feared their relationship and dreaded the arrival of their baby, once they were together, she found the peace in it. When she lay next to him, listening to his breathing in the dark, Kathryn let herself imagine hearing that for the rest of her life. She let her mind wander to the idea of their baby sleeping in the other room, and that baby growing into a little girl who would run in mornings in search of breakfast. She hadn't told him that she knew the sex of the baby, the surprise had seemed important to him and it was easy enough to keep it a secret. He'd forgive her, if she ever told him. The baby would be born by then and he'd be so happy that her mother's impatience would matter little.

In that frame of mind, half-asleep and absolutely content, Kathryn nearly didn't notice the first tightening of her belly. Like the orgasms she'd been experiencing since they'd been back together and exploring the extra sensitivity of her body, this sensation tightened her belly around the baby, turning the already firm curve into a sphere of contracted muscle. It wasn't unpleasant, not yet at least, and she rolled to her back, looking up at the ceiling. With her hips in that position, the next twinge was worse, so she rolled back to her side.

Resting her head next to Chakotay's shoulder, Kathryn was nearly asleep when her belly tightened again. Everything about early labour that she could remember told her not to panic. The more she relaxed, the more she might possibly be able to sleep.

Letting her mind drift between seeing her mother with her granddaughter and the problems the sensors encounter with near-subspace folding in the parts of the nebula with the most gravitational forces, she lost track of time. Chakotay had an early staff meeting, kissed her goodbye and left, presuming her asleep. Pulling her knees up close to her belly, she lay there in the blue light from the windows above her and waited for her body to work towards the next step.

Torn between thinking she was hungry and wondering if she should eat, she left the bed eventually and was surprised by how good it felt to be on her feet. Kathryn stood in front of the replicator for a long time, rocking on her feet when contractions cramped down around her belly and dragged on her spine. Leaning forward helped, and rocking back and forth did something that she couldn't explain. She eventually replicated scrambled eggs, thinking she'd need the protein. Eating them a few bites at a time, she hovered over the table instead of sitting. Now that she was up, sitting was too stationary, like she was trapped. Still in her nightgown, she paced Chakotay's quarters, humming to herself in the quiet.

When the contractions became strong enough that she couldn't ignore them just with force of will, she told the computer to start reading to her. Luckily, her favourite gothic novel was still in the database. She knew it too well, and she could follow the narrator's voice as the plot unravelled. Echoing the dialogue, she followed along as much as she could, imitating the narrator's accent until the next contractions took her breath away.

When she couldn't speak through them, and she had to stop walking and rock, dancing in place, Kathryn tapped her commbadge and asked the computer what Doctor Sahn was doing. By then the governess in her novel had fallen madly in love with the master of the house and the ghost stories were beginning to sound true.

Sahn arrived in uniform, her short red hair neatly in place. Her immaculate appearance made Kathryn realise she was still in her nightgown, face red from exertion, and her hair was unkempt.

The doctor smiled, trying to place the novel as it continued to play in the background. "Sounds like she's in trouble."

"Nineteenth century heroines usually are."

Sahn's tricorder beeped and chirped; she nodded, her smile remaining. "The baby's head is in a good position, your cervix is effaced and beginning to dilate. You're at three centimetres now, we'll keep an eye on it as the contractions get worse."

"Why is it you doctors never have anything good to say?"

Kathryn grabbed the wall, tightening her grip around the edge of the doorway between the bedroom and the living room. She hissed through her teeth, something she hadn't noticed when she was alone. Sahn touched her back, running her fingers lightly down Kathryn's spine.

"All they teach us in medical school is how to make normal people suffer. It's a failing of the system."

Her hands were cool through Kathryn's nightgown, and she appreciated the pressure as the contraction peaked before it eased.

"How long?"

Sahn kept rubbing her back slowly, smiling in sympathy. "Several hours, I'm afraid. I hope you tried to sleep?"

"As long as I could. I ate too."

"Good. Eating is good if you're hungry. Keep drinking too, juice or water, we want to keep your electrolytes up."

In the novel Kathryn had forgotten was playing, the heroine kissed the man of her dreams. She smiled and tried to catch sight of the time on the replicator. How much time had passed since the morning? Chakotay was coming back for lunch, wasn't he? She hadn't noticed him being late.

"Thirteen twenty-one," Sahn answered the question Kathryn hadn't asked. "When did you start having contractions?"

"Before Chakotay left. I didn't look."

"Do you have any other pain or discomfort? Headache, pain in your legs, anything sharp or tingling?"

Kathryn shook her head, wondering if she should brace and then losing the ability to speak as it the next contraction hit her. She panted, then found the strength to breathe through it. The slower she let the air out of her chest, the less it hurt.

"That's it, you're all right. You can handle it."

Everything the doctor said faded in to the narrator's unflinching voice as the computer played back her book. Both voices were rumbling around her, and neither needed her to listen. Fading in and out with her body was distracting only when someone wanted to talk to her, and she appreciated that the doctor didn't seem to want anything.

"Since you're having the baby here, I'd like to move some things around, like the bed. If it's all right with you, I'll ask B'Elanna and Seven of Nine to come help me rearrange the bedroom, and if you are ready for him to be here, I'll call Chakotay down from the bridge."

"I don't need him yet." It was still bearable, and he had work to do, didn't he? Some of it was important.

"Would you like him to be here?"

Kathryn pondered the question. It seemed to roll around in her head without finding purchase or logic. Would he be upset if she didn't say anything? Did she want him here? What would he do? She reached up, pushing her damp hair out of her face.

The doctor miraculously pulled a tie from her pocket and tied Kathryn's hair back, out of the way.

"Sometimes it can feel like you're imposing, taking someone's time when you're not sure if you need them or not. You're not in a great deal of pain. You feel it's under control."

"Yes."

"Chakotay will want to be here when I tell him you're in labour because he loves you, and he loves this child. He's not coming because he feels obligated or commanded to do so."

Kathryn's mind drifted, following the novel as it spiralled into the epilogue and the happy ending.

The doctor waited for her, patient and unassuming. "Would you like to wait a little longer?"

"I like the quiet."

"Okay. We'll try and keep that."

The doctor tapped her commbadge, issuing instructions as she ran her hands down Kathryn's back in a slow, steady pattern. Her voice was calm, quiet, with no hurry in it. She asked and those she spoke to answered. Their voices were familiar, yet far away. No one spoke to her. No one demanded anything.

B'Elanna arrived with a shy smile, and she came and squeezed her hand. Seven took the doctor's place, running her cool, steady hands up and down Kathryn's spine as contractions made it impossible for her to speak. The three of them spoke around her, coming to agreement without asking her opinion. They didn't matter. They were outside herself and her world was shrinking.

In one of the pauses between contractions, Sahn- Preia- that was her first name, touched Kathryn's cheek, drawing her attention.

"Will you drink this?"

Kathryn began to nod, wondering what this was before she felt a cup at her lips. Other hands than hers helped tilt it back, and she gulped down something she didn't recognise, faintly sweet, but tasting of nothing in particular. She swallowed again, finishing most of what was in the cup.

Preia's voice was light and pleased. "Good. Thank you."

As they worked in the bedroom, they rotated. One of them, B'Elanna, Seven or Preia came to her and said nothing. They offered their hands if she was walking, and rubbed them across her back, always down along the aching curve of her spine, never up. Down was important. She had to remember that.

Time continued to pass, running away without the background voice of the novel keeping her company. She found a path, from the replicator to the wall by the window, past the sofa, and around back to the door of the bedroom. It was hard to tell the women apart, and sometimes Kathryn could not. Seven was taller, but that didn't matter when she didn't look up. B'Elanna had strong hands, and she murmured, whispering things Kathryn needed to hear without knowing she heard them. The doctor was the gentlest, never rushing, speaking without questions.

She didn't have answers. She had pain: a deep, consuming kind of pain that was welling up from some part of her soul Kathryn had not yet discovered and desperate to get out. Sweat formed a sheen on her skin, then coated it, as if she were made of water as much as she was flesh. That drink came again, and like a baby she swallowed when it touched her lips and ignored it when she was not thirsty. Ignoring was easiest. The outside world was full of rushing sound and movement. In her mind, deep within herself she had the warm blue light of the nebula, and the background hum of the ship and friendly voices. Letting those sensations cocoon her, she allowed herself to forget everything else.

She was with B'Elanna the first time she cried. She didn't mean to; she hadn't before, but she was worn. Something was wearing away at her, as if everything she was was being eroded, giving birth to this new part of herself along with the baby. Her fear, the unrest that had been stalking her through this pregnancy like a predator in the dark, that was what she had to lose. It wasn't the baby she feared, or the change in her own life, it was herself.

She was what she needed to defeat. Her own monsters were what had to wash away. Pain was for that. It would cleanse her, purify what remained so she did not have to be afraid. She never had to be afraid.

With both hands on B'Elanna's shoulders, she smiled when her former chief engineer dried her face. Kathryn was so wet with sweat she hadn't felt the tears.

"Chakotay can come."

B'Elanna turned Kathryn's whisper into speech, something that Preia understood. Kathryn recognised the chirp of a commbadge, and the hiss of the door. B'Elanna held her, as steady as the ship beneath her feet.

"What do you need?"

"Don't need. I'm all right."

If she was confused, B'Elanna nodded anyway. "Chakotay is coming. He'll be here soon."

Kathryn missed the hiss of the door. She didn't focus on the voices around her, they didn't matter because the well was active. Pain: a kind of pain she'd never felt before, the tearing, downward pain enveloped her and made everything else fade into grey. Her hands switched, trading B'Elanna's small steely ones for dry hands that were big enough to dwarf her own. Momentarily confused, she took a step forward and put her head on his chest. The smell she knew as Chakotay. The deeper rumbling was his voice. She had no answers for him, but the others were talking. Everything was all right.

There was no time. The light of the nebula outside the windows was constant and the warm blue glow bathed them all. Seven was there, and then she was gone. B'Elanna was gone, and then she came back. Chakotay took over the task of rubbing her back, but the pain was enough now that she couldn't feel his hands. The heat of her pain was enough to burn the sensation of other hands away from her flesh. When her legs began to tremble, and her feet would not hold her, they went down. She was wet, inside and out but there had been no rush of water on her legs.

Was something meant to happen? Was the pressure meant to build to a breaking point? There was a rushing she needed to find. Something about water. Cold hands ran across her face, letting her rest her head against their knees. Her hands were on the floor, sinking into the carpet.

"Her water hasn't broken."

"That's all right. There's no rush. It might be taking the edge off some of her contractions. It'll break before delivery or it'll break with the baby, everything looks fine."

Chakotay's hands were the ones on her back, and Preia, she was the one with Kathryn's head in her lap. She was soft, gentle and without hurry. Somewhere, outside of her dream world, Kathryn was mildly aware of her own whimpering, and the foreign, almost growling sound that emerged from her throat. Her pain rushed and receded, drawing closer each time and backing away less. It wanted more of her, all of her, and she was fighting it. She was always fighting. She had to be in control. She couldn't surrender.

Could she?

She hadn't surrendered. She'd spent a life without, always dredging up some new part of herself to fight on, but now, now it was all right. The pain came like warm water, washing up and washing away. There was no need to be afraid. She was safe. The pain couldn't overwhelm her, because it was her. She'd been sinking down into the place without light: a wet, dark cave in the centre of her being. She needed to be there.

So she surrendered. When the next contraction came, brimming over the edge of consciousness and raw with pain and energy like the beginning of the solar system or the nebula outside, Kathryn let go. She allowed Chakotay's warm, steady presence to be forgotten, and sank into the last part of herself. There she stayed, sealed within her emotions and so far beneath her thoughts that she was a universe onto herself. Her own end and somewhere, past the breathing, the wet on her thighs and the sweat on her skin: there was a beginning.

Beginning.

That was important. Beginning had something to do with the pressure between her legs. She needed something. There was something she had to do. Like sex, or food, or the simple constant need for air: her body was trying to translate instinct into impulse.

Sitting up was like emerging from a dream. Chakotay was behind her, his hands on her shoulders were familiar and warm. Her eyes barely worked, barely focused, but slowly, colours like red and pink became hair and skin.

"I--" She ran her hand down, sliding it across her sweat-drenched nightgown and down until she found her own wet skin. Beneath the sweat-plastered hair of her pubis, the baby's head was round and firm, a foreign ball of bone inside of her own. It was that low. So far down that it was inside of her hips. It needed to get out.

"Do you want to push?"

Preia's hands followed hers along her skin, trusting Kathryn's instincts.

"It might feel like you desperately need to be down."

"Yes." Kathryn nodded, meeting the doctor's eyes.

Chakotay said something and the doctor said something else, then she was up, held between their arms. In the bedroom, the bed had been collapsed, so that the mattress was flat on the floor. Two ropes hung from the ceiling and Kathryn stared at them.

"Small starships like this one aren't designed with the right facilities to delivery babies. Pulling on something, like a rope, contracts all the right muscles to push. We're going to try to convince her to push with each contraction. It might feel best standing up, or on her knees, or squatting down. If one position doesn't work, we'll help her switch."

Chakotay stroked her cheek, then kissed where his hand had been. "You're doing great."

She stood near the bed, feet sinking into the carpet. She held on to Chakotay with one arm, and the other slipped down her belly again, feeling between her legs. She was wet, slick with fluid, and when the contraction began she could feel something pressing into her hand, like a jellyfish or a swollen balloon.

"That's your membranes, behind that is the the amniotic fluid and the baby's head. It may break, it might not. Either way, everything is fine."

Kathryn moaned, biting the sound back at the cost of her lip. She couldn't stand up; she needed to get down. Preia read that in her, and then Kathryn was down. Chakotay held her shoulders, steadying her against his legs. Preia's hands went beneath her, feeling the waters bulge against their hands. Watching the doctor's smile, Kathryn's widened her eyes in shock.

Breathing was easier now, more like running a race and less like drowning. The contraction passed, and with it left the desperate urge to push, open her legs and be down near the floor. Chakotay helped her up, and they stood, her catching her breath and him holding her. This too had a rhythm but now she was in control again. The pauses between contractions were long enough to breathe and see; the pain pressure instead of agony. Being down helped. Pulling on the rope helped, and millimetres at a time, the baby moved down into her hips. The hard curve of the baby's head was beneath her hand, slipping down as the water behind her membranes began to seep through.

She didn't know how long they were there. Time was still something of the outside world, and only her universe within was part of her concern. She kept her hand between her legs when she could, waiting for the baby's head to be flat against her hand. At first there was only flesh, her flesh, being stretched from within. Then that began to part, making way for the slick membrane holding back the water, and behind that, bone. She stood again, leaning against Preia's chest to catch her breath as Chakotay rubbed the white hot pain in her spine.

Then they crouched together, the doctor down with her and Chakotay holding her steady. The more she pulled up on the rope, the better it felt. Her throat was raw, her hands were sore from grasping, and her entire body trembled from effort spent, but this was right. The unshakable idea that she was exactly where she was meant to be settled over her like a shield, protecting her and the baby.

"There, there, feel that?"

Kathryn couldn't speak. The stinging in her lowest parts was like a ring of fire and only hissing through her teeth kept her breathing.

Preia guided her hand, helping her to the wet, hard circle that fit into her palm. Bone.

"That's the baby's head. Keep breathing. You're crowning. You're almost done."

"Chakotay."

"I'm here." His voice was just behind her head, as if he was inside her, close enough to almost be part of her universe. "When you're ready, push and our baby will be here. You're doing great, Kathryn. You're doing great."

"I--"

"It's all right." Preia promised, holding Kathryn's hand steady wrist. "You can hold it here, wait until you want to push. You're fine. The baby will wait for you."

She panted, regaining her breath. The ring of fire was still there, it still burned, but she was above it. She was above everything. She was part of the water. The well within her had been preparing her for this, washing away her weaknesses so she could bring this baby out of her into the world. She took a few more breaths, filling her lungs, then she pushed. All muscles in her abdomen, no matter how abused or exhausted, worked in tandem, fighting against the flesh to bring the baby forth. She lost her breath and fought it back, clinging to the rope she'd found so odd hours ago. Another pause came and went, lost in the struggle to keep her breath. She pushed again, drawing on the reserves of her strength, the parts of her she used to fight the Borg and what she'd used to bring her crew home. This was home. It was safe.

The baby's head slipped free and liquid followed, gushing out through the temporary gap. The head that had been a curve in her hand was a ball, and she ran her thumb along it. There was hair. The baby was slimy and still, but she had hair.

"Just the shoulders now. When your contraction comes, push and we'll have the baby."

"Chakotay, can you see?"

Kathryn didn't have time to wait for the answer to the question, because then she had to push, and the first shoulder slipped free, then the next. After that, the water did the rest. All the fluid that had been waiting behind the baby poured forth, running down her thighs onto the floor as the baby slipped out into the doctor's hands.

"Now I see." Chakotay whispered behind her head, his voice thick with gratitude and joy. "Kathryn, I see her."

Kathryn rocked back on her haunches, and Chakotay caught her, holding her against his chest in a sitting position as Preia handed the baby to her. At first she was grey, covered in white something and slime and the red smears of blood. Kathryn stared down at her, wondering how she could be alive.

"Blow on her face. Let her know it's okay to breathe."

Kathryn blew, gently introducing her daughter to the air. She twitched, her lips moved, then her nose and a moment later she gasped and went from grey to pink. Once she was pink, the baby mewled, a little gulping sound that turned into a full-throated cry.

Chakotay kissed her cheek, holding both her and the baby in his strong arms. The baby squirmed against her chest, still wet, but Kathryn was wet. It was right. Everything was all right. The tricorder came and went, and from Preia's smile, she knew everything was fine.

"You have some very minor tearing. Nothing to worry about. Your baby's in perfect health. Blood gases look great, and her vitals couldn't be better. When you're ready, nursing should help your uterus contract and expel the placenta."

Preia activated a handheld cleaning unit, cleaning the blood and slime off the baby with a sonic field. She worked quickly, then sat back, putting away some of her equipment and taking out some of the rest. The dermal regenerator hummed, and the residual stinging in Kathryn's flesh disappeared. The contractions were gone too, but something like aftershocks, weak and without much purpose, ran through her abdomen.

The baby's lips moved and her eyes opened, deep blue and searching.

"See if she'll nurse."

Chakotay's suggestion surprised her, and Kathryn turned her head, trying to see him.

He helped free her breast, removing her nightgown from her shoulder. Together they held the baby up, willing that little searching mouth to find the nipple and latch on. For a moment, the baby fumbled, then instinct won out. The little damp head that had so recently been inside her, latched to Kathryn's breast and began to suckle. As love and gratitude raced through her chest, sending her into a kind of euphoria she'd never felt, Kathryn's uterus began to contract again, but there was no pain. These were slow, quiet contractions, and it took a few minutes for the afterbirth to slip free.

It was a moment of wetness against her thighs, then it was gone. It looked strange, like an alien creature washed ashore on an uncharted sea. Preia checked it over, turning it over in her hands before she double checked with her tricorder.

"Everything's good. The placenta's intact and your uterus is clamping down nicely. I'll help you get settled in bed and cleaned up, then I'll let you three get acquainted. Let her nurse as much as she wants. Mom should eat when she can, and keep drinking fluids. If she starts bleeding, call me back or bring her to sickbay."

Chakotay took that in, which was perfect because Kathryn was still lost in the new universe that was their baby.

That baby, who needed a name, was pulling on her breast, taking life from Kathryn's body and making it her own. Why had she been afraid of this? Why hadn't she done this before? This was perfect, a single moment where everything was right. They'd done it. They'd made this baby and brought her out, and now they'd guide her through the world.

Once she had a name.

Chakotay caught Kathryn's searching glance. "I'd like to call her Melissa."

How did he know that was what she was thinking? How did he know that the baby needed a name?

"Melissa?"

"The spirits think we should call her Melissa Xihalli."

"You might have to teach me to spell the second one."

He laughed, full of more joy than she'd even seen. "I can do that."

"What does it mean?"

"Do all names mean something?" Her suspicious look made him keep laughing.

"She who walks with stars."

"I could spell _that_."

"It's more fun with an X."

Kathryn closed her eyes, trying to imagine their little girl learning to spell her middle name with an X. It might not be bad. She'd loved the fact that she had a Z in Elizabeth. Phoebe didn't have any interesting letters in her name.

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Okay. Melissa she shall be."

Preia winked at them both, putting her medical supplies away. "Thank your spirits. The Prophets will be pleased with that one. I'll make out the birth certificate."

When Melissa lost interest in nursing, she went to her father. Kathryn's legs, to her great surprise, were sturdy enough to take her to the shower, and even hold her up as the mess of childbirth was lifted away.

She had more tea, and more juice that she learned was something from Bajor called a rushya fruit. She stripped off her nightgown, putting little thought into modesty, and the doctor helped her change as Chakotay, baby in one arm, cleaned the bedroom. The bed was still on the floor, but that was all right. The floor was close and friendly.

Melissa went into the centre of the bed, but she cried as soon as Chakotay set her down. Kathryn crawled in beside her, lifted her up and the crying stopped. Against her chest, Melissa watched her sleepily, then shut her eyes. She stayed there, in her mother's arms, or on her father's chest for the rest of the night. Kathryn learned later, days later when she had begun to care about such things again, that her labour had dragged into the wee hours of the morning, and that Melissa's birthday was April twenty-eighth.

Which, when she finally found time to talk to her mother, over pancakes the next morning, was agreed to be a perfectly wonderful day.

 _\- finis -_

**Author's Note:**

> for enquiring minds, Xihalli is based on an Incan name that means 'star princess' or 'star walker'. Dr. Sahn Preia is my own creation, as is Eirixa Xhezin. They'd be played by Gillian Anderson and Michelle Yeoh, with Claudia Black as Phoebe Janeway and Julie Andrews as Gretchen. (unlimited budget!) Feel free to imagine others if you wish, those are the ones I had in mind.


End file.
